The Perfect Record
by SinfulPerfection
Summary: Brittany has kissed every person in Glee Club. This is the story of how she did it, and how her relationship with Santana developed as a result. A little bit of Brittany/everyone and a lot of BRITTANA.
1. Matt

**A/N: So this story is going to go in chronological order, from 2006 to 2011, and each chapter will correspond to a different kiss Brittany shared with a member of the Glee Club. That means that there will necessarily be some Brittany/everyone shipping, but it will also focus heavily on the development of Brittany and Santana's relationship. Ye have been warned.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>June 2006<em>

My first kiss was during a game of spin-the-bottle.

Azimio had a class party at his house to celebrate the end of sixth grade. I had never been to a party at a boy's house before. Santana sometimes got invited to boys' birthday parties because she played with them at recess, but the boys in our class thought I was too weird. I was so excited to be invited to Azimio's party, until Noah told me that it was a class party and that Azimio's mom _made _him invite everyone. He almost made me cry when he said that, but then Santana kicked him in the shins and I laughed instead.

On the day of the party, my mom actually dropped us off instead of parking and coming inside with us. I felt like a teenager as we walked up to the door, listening to the music and laughter coming from the backyard. "I hope they have beer," Santana said.

"My dad says you can't drink beer until you're a grown up," I said.

"That's not true, my brother drinks beer all the time," Santana replied. We got to the front door and she rang the doorbell. After a few moments, Azimio's mother opened it.

"Hi, girls," she said. "You can go straight out back. There's pizza." She smiled at us in a friendly way.

"Is there beer?" I asked politely.

Mrs. Adams's smile faltered. She opened her mouth and closed it again, like she wanted to say something but her voice wasn't working or something. Santana gave me a horrified look and grabbed my hand, practically dragging me to the back door. When we got there, she pushed it open. "Geez, Britt," she said when we got outside. "What the hell was that?"

"That was rude," I said with a frown. "You shouldn't have dragged me away."

"You can't just ask if they have beer," Santana told me, looking angry. I pouted.

"But you said kids can have beer too," I said.

Santana's face softened as she looked at me. "It's okay," she said. "Just don't talk about beer with grown-ups. It's, like, a secret."

"Okay," I said. "I love secrets."

Santana scanned the yard. Some people were swimming in the pool, and others were standing by the table of food. "What should we do?"

I looked across the yard and spotted one of my favorite toys by the fence. "A trampoline!" I said. "Can we go on it? Please?"

Santana hesitated. "We can go on the trampoline at my house later," she said, glancing over to the corner of the yard, where some of the kids in our class were sitting in a huddle. "I want to see what they're doing."

"Okay," I agreed. Santana was still holding my hand as she led the way over to our friends. When I was younger, my mom made me hold Santana's hand whenever we were in public so that I wouldn't get lost. I was old enough now not to get lost anymore—at least most of the time—but Santana always held my hand anyway. It surprised me, because she always said hand-holding was for babies and people in love, but I didn't complain. Her hand was very soft.

When we got closer to the huddle of people, I began to recognize them from our class, including the stupid-head Noah Puckerman. "Hey." Noah looked up at us as we got closer. He and a few other boys and girls were all sitting in a circle on the ground. "Do you want to play?" he asked, holding up an empty soda bottle—one of those cool glass ones—and grinning at us.

"Sure!" Santana said quickly. She walked over to Finn and Dave Karofsky, who scooted over to make room for us. Santana sat down, so I did too.

"Are we playing Duck-Duck-Goose?" I asked.

"Nope," Noah said. "We're playing Spin-the-Bottle." Next to me, Santana was smiling. I frowned.

"What's Spin-the-Bottle?" I whispered to her.

"You'll see," she whispered back. Noah put the bottle on the ground in the middle of the circle. Then he reached forward and spun it hard. It twirled around for several seconds before stopping, with the point of the bottle facing a girl named Amy. She was in my math class and we used to be friends, but then she got mad at me for always copying her homework. Amy giggled and looked up at Noah. Her face was all red. Noah just shrugged and crawled across the circle. Then, suddenly, they started kissing.

"What?" I said loudly. "Why are they doing that?"

"Shh!" Santana said as the rest of the people in the circle looked at me like I was crazy. "That's how you play the game," she said quietly. "You kiss the person who the bottle lands on."

"Oh," I said, nodding. On Santana's other side, Dave snorted.

"Shouldn't you be at home playing with your Barbies or something?" he said to me. "This is a big-kid party." He looked over at me with glinting eyes and I knew he was making fun of me. Which didn't make any sense because I _did _still play with Barbies and Santana told me that it wasn't a big deal. Sometimes she played, too. I bit my lip and tried not to look too upset, but it was hard.

"Shut the fuck up, Karofsky," Santana said. Noah and Amy stopped kissing immediately so that they could look at her. Everyone in the circle was looking at Santana now. They looked scared.

"You—you can't say that word," Dave spluttered.

"I just did, you dumb fuck," she said. "Don't make fun of Brittany."

Dave got all quiet. "Fine." Noah went back to his place in the circle, watching Santana the whole time. I didn't like the way he was looking at her. It was like he wanted to eat her. I took Santana's hand again and put her fingers in between mine. She squeezed them lightly as Noah handed the bottle to Azimio, who was sitting next to him. Azimio took the bottle and gave it a spin.

I learned how to play Spin-the-Bottle pretty quickly. It was easy. You just passed the bottle around the circle and whoever it pointed to, you had to kiss. Sometimes the bottle would go from a boy to another boy, or a girl to another girl, and then everyone would start to laugh and get all uncomfortable. And then you had to spin again. When Finn, who was right before me, got the bottle, he spun it and it landed on Santana. I felt her grip on my hand tighten. "Nice," Noah said.

Finn looked over at Santana and gave her a crooked smile. She looked back at him unhappily. "I don't want to kiss that big freak," she said.

"San, be nice," I said softly. Santana looked at me and I was surprised to see that she looked a little scared. I knew she had never kissed anyone before. We talked about it a lot. Sometimes we practiced on Teddy bears and Santana always said that she was going to best kisser ever. I didn't know why she looked so nervous to kiss Finn, since my Teddy told me that Santana was very good at kissing. I looked over at Finn, whose eyes were moving around anxiously, and then back at Santana.

"What's the matter?" Noah asked teasingly. "First kiss?"

Santana glared at him. "No," she said, letting go of my hand as she spoke. My eyes widened in shock. Santana already had her first kiss and she didn't tell me about it? "Move, Britt," she said, and I backed up so that I was no longer between Santana and Finn. She leaned forward and I saw the top of her shirt slip down slightly to reveal her new pink bra that was underneath. I wanted to tell her to pull it up, but she was already moving towards Finn and so I didn't want to say anything. I saw Finn's eyes dart down to her chest and then back up to her face. He blushed and I knew that he had seen her bra too, and suddenly I felt embarrassed for her. I think Finn was embarrassed, too, because he looked completely frozen and he didn't even close his eyes as Santana pressed her lips roughly to his.

Sometimes, instead of kissing my own Teddy bear, I would watch Santana kiss hers. She would close her eyes slowly and lean in until her lips just lightly touched the bear. Her head would tilt to the side—I don't know why she did that, but I saw it in movies, so I knew that it must be right—and she would wrap her arms around the bear's neck. Then she would pull tighter and sometimes she would open her mouth slightly. Her tongue would dart out and sweep across the Teddy's fuzzy smile, and at that point, she would pull away, laughing. "I got hair in my mouth," she would always say. "Me, too," I would respond, pretending I that I had been making out with my bear instead of spying. It was hypnotizing to watch her. One time, after she went home, I picked up her bear and tried to kiss it just the way that she did. I knew it probably didn't look the same, though. Her lip gloss had gotten all over his face and then it got on my lips, and I didn't wipe it off right away. I wondered if that was what kissing Santana was like. I wondered if Finn would get her lip gloss on his lips, too. I hoped that he didn't. Lip gloss would look funny on a boy.

But Santana didn't kiss him like she kissed the bear at all. She didn't even put her arms around him. Her eyes and mouth were closed super tight and it didn't seem very gentle. She pulled away fast and went back to her spot. Her arm came up to clean her mouth furiously and I leaned in towards her. "How was it?" I asked curiously.

"Disgusting," she replied immediately. When she had cleaned Finn's grossness off of her, she held my hand again. I realized suddenly that it was my turn and I used my other hand to pick up the bottle off the ground. But nobody was watching me because they were all staring at Finn. He had turned all red and all of the boys were looking at him and snickering. He had his hands in his lap and he looked horrified.

"What's happening to him?" I asked Santana. She looked over at Finn and then she started to look all red and horrified too.

"You have to be joking me," she said.

"I'll—uh, I'll be right back," Finn stuttered. He got up from the circle super fast and practically ran towards the house. I felt worried as I watched him leave.

"Where is he going?" I asked.

Dave snorted. "To take care of something," he said. Noah started laughing and they high-fived. I looked at Santana, still confused.

"What thing?" I asked. She shook her head.

"I'll explain later."

"Okay." I put the bottle in the middle of the circle like everyone else had done. Then I spun it. It went around the circle a few times before finally coming to a stop—in front of Matt Rutherford. I looked up and met his eyes. "Hi," I said.

"Hey," he replied. I giggled and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Um, okay," I said. Santana looked at me encouragingly, so I went across the circle towards Matt. Most guys would probably be mad if they had to kiss me, since they thought I was a freak, but Matt's eyes were smiley and it made me feel sort of nice. I knelt down on the grass in front of him and leaned in slowly. Santana said not to close your eyes until the last second, otherwise you might miss, so I kept them open until our lips were touching. Then I closed my eyes and stayed still for a few seconds. His lips were soft and it was kind of nice. After waiting a tiny bit, I pulled away and smiled. Matt was smiling too, and I felt a little shiver of excitement.

Santana's turn was next, so I crawled back to my spot and handed her the bottle. She looked at it and then up at me. "I'm bored," she said. "We should do something else."

"We haven't even gotten around the circle yet," Dave whined from next to her.

"I don't care," Santana said, standing up and letting the bottle drop to her side. "You losers can keep playing if you want. I'm gonna get some pizza."

"Me too," I said, standing up. Everyone looked up at us. Then Noah shrugged.

"Whatever, we don't need them," he said. Dave picked up the bottle and Santana began to walk towards the table with the food. I followed her.

"Were you really bored?" I asked.

"Yeah, and hungry," Santana said. She picked up a plate and headed for the pizza boxes.

"Did you actually kiss someone before Finn?" I asked.

Santana paused. She looked around and when she was sure nobody was listening, she said, "No. I would have told you if I had."

"Then why did you lie?" I asked.

Santana shrugged. "I don't know. Do you want pepperoni or cheese?"

"Cheese," I replied. Santana pulled out two pieces of cheese pizza and put them on her plate. Then we walked over by the pool. There were chairs and tables set up and we took a seat at the corner of one of them. At the other end, Rachel Berry was sitting with Mercedes Jones. I waved at Rachel—we had taken ballet together since we were little and she was kind of my friend. Rachel waved back and Santana rolled her eyes.

"You should seriously stop talking to that freak so much," she said, taking a big bite of her pizza.

"But she's nice to me," I said.

Santana swallowed. "So? I'm nice to you. You don't need anyone else. Besides, she looks like that thing from _Lord of the Rings_. Those short ones with the hairy feet. What are they called?"

"Hobbits," I said. I was currently in a _Lord of the Rings _phase and had been forcing Santana to watch the movies with me. But she always fell asleep.

"Right, hobbits," she said with a snort. "I think I'm going to call her that from now on. Hobbit."

"But Rachel doesn't have hairy feet, I don't think," I said.

"She probably does," Santana replied. She pushed the plate towards me. "Are you going to eat your pizza?"

"Yeah," I said, pulling off a gooey piece of cheese and popping it into my mouth. I liked to eat pizza in layers. Most people thought it was gross, but Santana said it was cute, so I only did it around her. "Anyway, I won't see Rachel anymore because I'm going to a new dance studio."

"Good," Santana replied. "You're a way better dancer than her, anyway."

"I know," I said. There were a few minutes of silence as we both ate our pizza. Santana finished her entire slice right as I got to the tomato sauce layer. She reached her finger over and dipped it in the sauce before bringing it to her mouth.

"So we both had our first kisses, then, huh?" she said, sucking on her finger.

"Yeah," I replied. "It's weird."

"Weird," Santana echoed. "Yeah. It was."

"It was nice, though, too," I said, remembering how soft Matt's lips had been. "Better than kissing the Teddy bear, anyway."

"You think?" Santana asked.

I nodded. "Definitely better."

Santana sighed. "I don't know. I had to kiss Finn."

"Finn is okay," I pointed out. I was confused because Santana and I sometimes made 'Hot or Not' lists for our class, and Finn was usually on the 'Hot' list. But Santana was shaking her head.

"He's a bad kisser," she said.

"But you only kissed him for, like, a second," I said. "How do you even know?" I thought about my kiss with Matt again. It was nice, sure, but I didn't know if he was good at it or not. But was he? Was _I_? I bit my lip. What if I was a bad kisser just like Finn?

"I don't know, he just wasn't very good at it," Santana said. "It didn't feel right."

"Maybe if you kissed someone else, it would feel better," I suggested. "We should have kept playing. It was your turn to spin."

"Nah," Santana said. "I didn't feel like kissing anyone else tonight."

"Alright," I said.

"Did you want to keep playing?"

I shrugged. "I want to do whatever you want to do."

Santana smiled and moved her chair closer to mine. "I'm glad it's finally summer," she said. "We can do whatever we want."

"Can we hang out every day?" I asked hopefully.

"Yep," Santana said with a nod. "Every day."

"What about the days I have dance class?"

"I'll ride my bike and pick you up," she said.

"Do you promise?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Pinky promise?" I held out my pinky in front of me. Santana looked at it and laughed.

"We haven't done that since kindergarten," she said.

I pouted. "Please?"

"Fine," she said, reaching forward to link her pinky with mine. "I pinky promise."


	2. Finn

_March 2007_

Santana was super excited when Finn asked me out. It was because she had just started dating Noah—who had started making everyone call him Puck—and he and Finn were best friends. Santana thought it would be super fun if we were dating so that the four of us could go on double dates. "We'll be the most popular girls in seventh grade!" she said.

I thought Finn was sort of cute, so I told him that we could go out. Santana had changed her mind about Finn being gross once she found out that he had gone to football camp over the summer. He had grown another six inches, too, and the McKinley High football coach had already talked to him about continuing to train so that he could play Varsity in high school. Everyone in our class knew about it, and a bunch of girls started wanting to date him. There was a rumor that Rachel Berry had made a shrine to him, but I wasn't sure that was true. Anyway, Santana told me that Finn could get any girl he wanted, so I was completely surprised when he came up to me after school one day, looked down at the ground, and said awkwardly, "Hey Brittany, do you maybe want to go out sometime?"

We decided that our first date should be with Puck and Santana. I couldn't remember a time where Santana had been more excited. "This is so perfect," she kept saying as we got ready at her house. "We're best friends and our boyfriends are best friends."

"Is Finn already my boyfriend?" I asked nervously as she helped me straighten my hair. "We haven't actually gone on the date yet."

"Okay, maybe not _yet_, but he will be," Santana said. "I mean, you like him, right?"

"Yeah, I do. I think," I said. I really did like Finn. We sometimes had to stay after school for math tutoring together. He was the only boy in our class who didn't call me stupid, which was nice. Even though I knew it was only because he was stupid, too.

"He'll probably ask you to be his girlfriend tonight," Santana said. "Puck asked me after our first date."

"I'm nervous," I said. "The only person I've been on a date with is you. I don't know what to do."

Santana looked at me strangely. "We've never been on a date, Brittany."

I frowned, confused. "But what about the first time our parents let us see a movie alone?"

"That's different," Santana explained patiently. "That was just friendly."

"You paid for my ticket, though," I pointed out. "We shared a popcorn and you held my hand during the whole movie because you were so scared."

Santana laughed. "You're funny, Britt," she said.

I wasn't trying to make a joke. But sometimes people laugh even when I say things that I don't think are funny. "Thanks," I said instead.

"You're welcome." Santana put down the hair straightener and picked up her makeup bag. "Turn around," she instructed.

I spun around in my chair so that I was facing Santana. She knelt down on the floor and began brushing some powdery stuff on my face. "Why do you think Finn asked me out?" I asked.

"Don't move so much," Santana said, putting down the brush and pulling out an eyeliner pencil. "He asked you out because he likes you."

"I don't think so," I said, trying to speak without moving my mouth. "Guys usually make fun of me."

"They do that because they think you're cute," Santana said. "Close your eyes."

I closed my eyes as Santana put on eyeliner, eyeshadow, and mascara. The whole time, I couldn't stop thinking about what she had said. Was I actually cute? I had never thought so before. Santana was the cute one. In elementary school, guys were always trying to beat her up, and my dad said that they did it because they had a crush on her. And last year when she kissed Finn, something happened to him that Santana said happened when boys saw someone hot. On Valentine's Day this year, three boys came up to me and asked me to deliver a Valentine to Santana. I never got a Valentine. I cried a little bit that day, until Santana gave me the candy from her Valentines and told me that the boys who gave them to her were disgusting and that she would rather be my Valentine anyway. Except that I know she was Puck's Valentine, too, because that night he called her and asked her out. I always thought that romantic stuff like that only happened to people like Santana, but if Finn thought I was cute, maybe it would happen to me, too. Maybe next year I would get a Valentine who was all mine.

"Girls!" Santana's mom called from downstairs. "It's almost seven!"

"Alright, we're coming!" Santana called back. I opened my eyes. "How do I look?" she asked, showing off her new clothes.

"You look like a rockstar," I said, standing up. "What about me?"

"Stunning," she said.

"Pinky promise?" I asked teasingly.

"Yep," she said, linking our pinkies together. She didn't let go as we went downstairs and into the living room. Santana's mom smiled when she saw us.

"You girls look great," she said. "And you're not going to get into any trouble, right?"

"Of course not, Mom," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "Let's just go."

We got into the car and Santana's mom drove us to the restaurant. When we turned onto the right street, I could see Puck and Finn standing on the sidewalk in front of it. "Drop us off right here, we'll walk the rest of the way," Santana told her mom.

Mrs. Lopez hesitated. "Alright," she said. "Just be safe. Stay with the boys and I'm coming to pick you up right at ten, okay?"

"Okay," we both said, jumping out of the car. Santana ran her fingers through her hair and shivered excitedly as we began to walk. "You ready for your first date?" she asked with a grin.

"I think so," I said, smiling back. "You'll help me, right?"

"Of course," Santana replied. We got to the front of the restaurant and she waved at Finn and Puck. They both walked over. Puck leaned down and kissed Santana quickly on the lips, so I hung back awkwardly.

"Hey," Finn said to me.

"Hi," I replied.

When Santana and Puck pulled apart, they led us into the restaurant. We were seated at a booth. Santana pulled me next to her, so Puck and Finn sat across from us. "So," Puck said when we sat down, "you girls are looking hot tonight."

I blushed as Santana rolled her eyes at him. She did that to him a lot, but he seemed to like it. Then she looked over at Finn. "You look okay, dork face. I'm surprised."

"Uh, thanks," Finn said. Then he smiled at me and I smiled back. He actually looked better than okay. His hair had some gel in it and his clothes were a little nicer than usual. I thought it was sweet that he had tried hard to look good. Even if his shirt still had the tag on it.

Puck began to look around for the waiter. "Can we get some appetizers up in here?" he asked. "I'm starving."

"Jeez, Puck, don't be such a pig," Santana said, rolling her eyes. Then she glanced over at me and sort of pointed towards Finn with her head. I looked awkwardly at him and cleared my throat.

"So, um, Finn," I said, feeling nervous. "Uh...how is football going?"

"It's great!" Finn said enthusiastically. He started talking about his coach and the training that he was doing. After that, he started talking about pro football, and I was actually able to say some things because I liked to watch football with my dad. As we talked, Santana kept giving me encouraging looks. I started to feel a lot more confident. Talking to Finn was pretty easy.

When we finished with dinner, we walked across the street to the movie theater. We were seeing _Transformers_, since the boys really wanted to, and Santana said it was important to do what they said. At first I thought the robots were really cool, but then I started to get confused. There were a lot of things happening and I couldn't figure it out. After about thirty minutes, I was totally lost.

I leaned over and whispered in Finn's ear. "What's going on?"

"Some stuff," Finn whispered back, his eyes fixed on the screen. I waited for him to say more, but he didn't.

"What stuff?" I tried again.

"Just keep watching. I'll explain at the end."

"Alright," I said, settling back in my seat. I tried to focus, but after five minutes, I lost track again. I couldn't remember the difference between a Decepticon and an Autobot. I glanced over at Finn, wondering whether I should ask him, but he was completely transfixed and I didn't want to bother him. Instead, I turned to the my other side. Maybe Santana would know. I squinted into the darkness. "Santana," I whispered. Then I saw her and my eyes got huge.

She had moved several inches away from me in her seat and was facing the other direction. I could see Puck's hands on her, rumpling her shirt as they slid up and down her back. Santana moaned and as they turned slightly, I saw that her own arms were around his neck and their mouths were pressed tightly together. Puck's tongue kept flopping in and out of her mouth as they made out, and I wondered how she could even breathe. I turned back towards the screen quickly so that they wouldn't see me. "Wow," I said to myself.

After a moment, I glanced over at Finn. He was still watching and didn't seem to notice the make-out fest that was happening right next to me. I stared back at the screen until the colors started to blur together, not really seeing what was happening anymore. I couldn't help but to keep looking over to see what Santana and Puck were doing, even though it made me feel funny to watch them.

At the end of the movie, we all got up to leave. Santana straightened out her hair and clothes and it seemed like she was trying to pretend that nothing happened. "That movie was awesome," Finn said.

"Yeah, it was great," Santana replied. "I really liked it." I looked at her eyes and I could tell that she was lying. I knew that she hadn't even been watching the movie.

"Megan Fox is totally hot," Puck said. "I would do her."

Finn laughed awkwardly. "Uh, okay," he said. I looked over at Santana. She was watching Puck and she looked a little bit mad. We walked out of the theater and Santana checked the time on her phone.

"My mom is coming in ten minutes," she announced.

Puck nodded. "Alright," he said. Then he gave Santana a look. I didn't get what it meant, but then suddenly she was holding his hand and they were starting to walk away. I was about to follow them, but Santana looked at me and then at Finn and shook her head. Then, I understood. With wide eyes, I turned back to Finn, who was still standing in the same spot, his hands in his pockets.

"So," he said. "That was cool."

"Yeah," I replied breathlessly. Were we about to do what Puck and Santana had been doing? Because I didn't think I was ready for that. I looked back over at the two of them. They had stopped just far enough away so that I couldn't hear what they were saying. Puck was leaning against the wall of the theater and talking, but Santana's eyes seemed to flicker over to us every five seconds. I looked back at Finn.

"Do you want to go out again sometime?" he asked, sounding like he was tripping over his tongue. He turned reddish and my stomach began to relax. He seemed nervous and I suddenly knew he wasn't going to expect me to kiss him the way that Puck had kissed Santana.

"Sure," I said with a smile. Then I screwed up the courage to ask, "Does that mean you're my boyfriend now?"

Finn smiled in the way that he always did, where one side of his mouth went up farther than the other. I thought it was cute and I blushed. "Yeah, I think," Finn said. "Do you...um, do you want to be my girlfriend?"

I started to feel giddy. "Yes," I said. "Sure." Then I giggled. Having a boyfriend was exciting.

Finn gave a small laugh. "So...can I kiss you?"

"Okay," I said. Finn took a small step towards me. He had to lean down kind of far to reach my lips, so I stood as tall as I could and closed my eyes. His lips touched mine and he stayed like that for a long time. When he finally pulled away, he was smiling.

"Cool," he said.

"That was nice," I told him. I looked over at Santana and Puck, who had been watching us. They started walking back towards us and I noticed that Santana didn't seem very happy.

"Come on, Britt," she said when she reached us. "My mom is around the corner."

"Okay," I said. "Bye Finn."

"Bye Brittany," he responded. I noticed that Santana and Puck didn't say goodbye, but I didn't really think about it. Santana led the way around the corner, but when we got there, her mom's car wasn't anywhere in sight. She sat down on the curb and I sat down with her. I expected her to ask about my kiss, but she didn't.

"I had fun," I said, since she was keeping quiet.

"Good," Santana replied. She seemed distracted.

"Did you have fun?" I asked.

"Mhm. Sure."

"You're lying," I said. Santana didn't answer me. "You seemed like you were having fun during dinner. Why are you sad now?"

"I guess I wasn't that into the movie," Santana said with a shrug.

"Was it because Puck was eating your face?"

Santana turned around in surprise. "What are you talking about?" she said.

I shrugged. "I saw you guys making out during the movie."

"Were you, like, watching us or something?" Santana asked. She sounded disgusted and I was surprised because she didn't usually talk to me this way. It sounded like the way she would talk to gross people, like her brother or Rachel Berry.

"No, I wasn't _watching_, I just saw," I said.

"Alright." Santana didn't look at me. She just kept staring straight ahead.

"Do you like doing that?" I asked.

Santana shrugged. "Sometimes."

"Did you like it tonight?" Again, Santana didn't speak. She was being super quiet and it was frustrating. "I don't think that you liked it," I said.

"Whatever, Brittany," Santana said. She looked exasperated. "Why do you care so much about my relationship, anyway? Jeez."

Santana's tone was harsh and I felt my heart start to hurt. "I just don't think you should have to do things you don't want to do," I said quietly.

"I don't do things that I don't want to do," Santana replied, folding her arms across her chest. "People do things that _I _want to do, not the other way around."

"Okay," I said. We were quiet for a few more minutes. Santana's mom still didn't come. I checked my phone and saw that it wasn't even ten o'clock yet, and I wondered why Santana had told the boys that we were leaving when we obviously weren't. The silence started to make me anxious, so I said, "Finn asked me to be his girlfriend."

"That's great," Santana said, even though she didn't sound like she thought it was very great.

"Yeah," I said. "Now we can go on double dates all the time."

"Sure thing," Santana said.

"And we can all go to the dances together," I continued. "And sit together at lunch. And be popular and all that." I watched Santana closely. All I wanted was for her to be as happy as she was earlier. I didn't understand how she could be so excited at the beginning of the night and so upset at the end of it, when nothing bad had even happened.

"I know," Santana said. "I can't wait."

"If you say so," I muttered quietly. Santana pretended not to hear me. A few moments later, Santana's mom's car turned onto the street that we were on. Santana stood quickly and I stood up next to her. "Can I spend the night at your house?" I asked.

"I don't think so," Santana said. "I'm really tired." She turned to me and smiled to show that she was not mad, but there was sadness in her eyes and I knew that she was lying to me about being tired.

"Okay," I said, looking at the ground in disappointment. The car pulled up in front of us and Santana moved towards the passenger door. "I love you, anyway," I told her.

"Come on, get in the car," she replied.

It was the first time she didn't say 'I love you' back.


	3. Mike

_December 2007_

When I was in eighth grade, me and another boy in my class—Mike Chang—were chosen to be the lead dancers in the Winter Holiday Festival. I was really excited. My mom was annoyed because I had to rehearse after school every day, so I didn't have a lot of time to do homework. But I thought it was worth it. It was my first time getting a big part in anything. And the best part was that Mike's house was right down the street from Santana's. Which meant that whenever I had to practice at his house, Santana and I got to walk home from school together.

"I'm so excited for Christmas," I said to Santana as we strolled along the sidewalk. "I asked Santa for a new bike."

"I asked Santa for a new brother," Santana said. She had one hand shoved in the pocket of her coat, but the other one was out so that she could grab my pinky with hers. I swung our hands back and forth as we walked.

"Why would you want a new brother?" I asked. "I like Christian. He buys us candy."

"I don't," Santana said. "He took money from me yesterday. I was going to use it to buy your Christmas present."

"You don't need to get me a present, silly," I said. "Santa will bring me everything I need."

"Right, Santa," Santana replied. "Whatever, I'm still getting you something. Santana Claus has Christmas duties, too, you know."

I giggled. "Santana Claus," I repeated. "That's funny. Will you come down the chimney?"

"If you want me to," she said, giving me a big smile. A breeze blew between us, whipping my hair in front of my face. I felt Santana shiver. "It's so cold," she said. "My hand is about to freeze off."

"My pinky is nice and warm," I said, squeezing it tightly around hers.

"Okay, sure, but the rest of my hand feels like ice," she said.

"Hold my whole hand, then!" I said. I let go of her pinky and tried to lace our fingers together, but to my surprise, she pulled away and put her hand in her pocket. Her smile went away a little bit.

"We'll be warmer this way," she said.

"Fine." I put my own hand in my pocket. The wind wasn't hitting it anymore, but for some reason, my pinky still felt cold. "We used to hold hands a lot," I pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess," Santana replied.

"Why don't we anymore?"

Santana laughed. "Because it's childish."

"But you hold hands with Puck," I said, pouting a little bit.

"That's different."

"But why?"

Santana stopped walking. She turned to look at me. "Brittany," she said sternly. "It's _different_."

"I just don't see how," I said, looking down at the ground and kicking at some leaves. I knew why Santana was mad, though. A few weeks ago, when we were talking about boys, I asked her why we never talked about girls. Girls are pretty, too, I told her. How come when girls go out by themselves, it's just as friends, but when a girl and a boy go out, it's a date? Why aren't we allowed to _like _like a girl? Santana told me that it's different, but when I asked why, she didn't really explain. "Because," she kept saying. "It just is." I told her that she was acting like my dad whenever he pretended to know the answer to something that he actually didn't. She told me not to bring it up again.

"Besides," Santana said suddenly, "I haven't been holding hands with Puck for a while. "We're off again."

"Oh," I said. "I'm sorry." I wasn't really sure what to say. Santana described Puck as an 'on-again, off-again boyfriend' and she never seemed that sad when they were off, or that happy when they were on. I didn't really understand the situation. It made me think of a light switch.

"He's dumb, anyway," Santana said. "You're lucky that you and Finn broke up over the summer."

"I guess," I said. I wasn't really sad about Finn anymore. I was sad when it happened, though. Finn was really sweet and he liked Smurfs as much as I did. But then right before school started, he told me that we needed to break up so that he could focus on homework and football. Except that I knew that the real reason was that he wanted to start hooking up with other girls. Which is why I was sad.

"You'll find someone new," Santana assured me. "You're more popular without Finn, anyway."

I shrugged. "I don't really care," I said. "I don't need lots of friends. Just you."

"It's not about friends, it's about respect," Santana said. "And by the way, is there something going on between you and this Mike guy? Because he definitely went from dopey to dreamy this year, and a lot of people are wondering if you're gonna hit that."

"I don't know," I said. "I don't know him that well. Only a little bit."

"People think you guys are gonna start dating," she said. She looked over at me out of the corner of her eye. "They're jealous."

"Oh," I said. I didn't like it when people were jealous of me. It made me nervous. "Well, I don't even think he likes me."

"He probably does, most of the guys in our class do," Santana said, catching a falling leaf and examining it more closely than people usually examine leaves. "I heard a rumor that he has awesome abs."

"I wouldn't know," I said.

"If you get a chance, check and tell me if it's true," Santana said. I laughed, but she looked serious.

"Okay, sure," I said. "I'll check."

We got to Santana's house and she hugged me. "Bye," she said. "Good luck practicing."

"Thanks," I said. "Good luck with...homework."

She frowned. "I guess." She started to walk towards her door and I kept walking forward. As she got a little father away, she suddenly called out, "Have fun at Mike's!" I turned around and she winked.

"Boy crazy freak!" I called back teasingly, and Santana just smiled as she pulled her key out of her pocket. I turned forward again just in time to avoid tripping over a bunch of pine cones on the sidewalk.

After I walked past about five houses, I finally got to Mike's. The door was closed but since I came over a lot, he had told me that I could just let myself in. I turned the knob and sure enough, the door was unlocked. Mike was in the living room, as usual, wearing basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. "You're late," he said when I walked in.

"Santana walks slow," I said. "I'm sorry."

"It's not a big deal." He pulled one arm in front of his chest and held it there with the other, stretching so that he wouldn't get a cramp. For the first time, I noticed how big his biceps were.

"I have to change," I said. Mike just nodded, so I took my backpack down the hall to the bathroom. I put on my gym shorts and then took off my shirt so I could pull on my sports bra. Then I reached for my t-shirt, looking in the mirror as I did so. Since I had joined a new dance studio, I had to work out way more than usual. I was surprised to see the lines of muscle on my stomach. I grabbed a piece of skin and pinched. Not as flabby as before. Feeling proud, I pulled my shirt over my head. But then I couldn't see my awesome new stomach anymore. I took the shirt off again to take another look. It was good. Plus my new sports bra was pink, my favorite color. It was such a shame that I had to cover it up. Feeling suddenly naughty, I shoved the shirt into my backpack and smirked at my refection as I left the bathroom.

Mike's jaw dropped when I walked into the living room. He jumped out of his stretch and looked me up and down. "Uh, did you forget to bring your shirt?" he asked awkwardly.

I shook my head. "No, it just gets sort of hot when we practice," I said. "Is it okay if I just wear this?"

"Uh..." Mike looked stunned. I placed my hands on my hips and bit back a smile as he looked me up and down. Santana had always talked about getting 'checked out' and I was pretty sure it was happening to me right now. It felt good. "Sure," he said finally. "Um, so let's do this."

"Okay," I said, walking towards the empty space in the middle of the room. Mike kept his eyes on my stomach the whole time. I stood in front of him, waiting, but when he didn't move, I finally had to say something. "Are you gonna turn on the music?" I asked.

"Right!" Mike practically sprung across the room to turn on his iPod.

The dance we were doing was to a hip hop song. It started out as a group number, with me and Mike in the front, and then we had a duet in the middle where the music got all slow. After that, the rest of the people came back on and we finished the number. Our teacher said Mike and I had to know everything perfectly, since we were going to be 'center stage' as he called it. So we practiced the entire dance, from the very beginning. When we got to the duet, he reached forward to put his arms around me. He looked a little bit uncomfortable as he placed his hands on my bare back, but I smiled at him to let him know it was okay. The truth was, it was making me feel kind of tingly. His arms were strong, and when he grabbed me to lift me in the air, I felt my stomach do a flip.

We did the dance over and over until almost an hour had gone by. "We should take a break," Mike panted when the song ended again. I nodded, and he immediately walked over to the couch and flopped down. There were water bottles on the floor and I picked one up before taking a seat next to him. I could feel his eyes on me again as I opened the bottle and took a sip. "You've gotten good, you know," Mike said. "Like, really good."

I blushed. "Thanks," I said. "I've been practicing a lot."

"I can tell." His eyes swept over me and I shivered, even though I was really warm from all the dancing. "You have abs," Mike said, reaching forward to poke my stomach.

"Hey," I said, swatting his hand away. He grinned teasingly. "Look but don't touch," I told him. It was something Santana liked to say to guys a lot.

"I already did touch them, though," Mike said. He started laughing. He had a nice laugh. I started to smile, but I forced myself to pout instead.

"It's not fair," I said. "I want payback."

"Oh yeah?" Mike asked with his eyebrows raised.

"Yeah. Let's see some skin," I said with a giggle.

Mike thought about it for a moment. "Fine," he said. "It _is_ getting hot." He stood up and pulled off his shirt. I stared in shock. The rumor Santana had heard was completely true. He had, like, the greatest abs ever. They looked like the abs that the guys had in magazines at the drug store that my mom told me not to read. They were unreal, and I couldn't stop staring. Mike noticed. "Like what you see?" he asked.

"Maybe," I replied. Mike smiled.

"Alright. Let's run it again."

I pulled myself off the couch and we went back to dancing. Everything was going perfectly until it was time for our moment. As Mike's arms wrapped around my waist, our stomachs touched, and a jolt of electricity shot through my body. I stumbled, messing up for the first time. "Whoa," I said. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Mike replied. "We can..uh, do it again?"

"Yeah," I said, but I didn't move. Neither did he. We were standing really close together, uncomfortably close, but I couldn't move for some reason. The music kept playing in the background as we stared at each other. I knew what was going to happen a split second before it did. Mike leaned in at the same time as I did, and our lips crashed together.

My mouth was sort of open when the kiss started, and pretty soon his tongue was touching mine. Finn and I had sometimes kissed like this before, but Mike felt completely different. He was quicker and more confident. His arms tightened around my waist, and I heard a moan that I knew had come from myself. I could feel the bare skin of his abs touching mine, and I pressed as close to his body as I could. The skin on his neck was moist with sweat, but for some reason, I didn't think it was gross. I moved up hands up into his hair, pulling his face harder against mine. Right when I stared to feel like my lungs were going to explode, Mike pulled away, letting his hands drop to his sides. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were dark. "Wow," I whispered.

"I'm so sorry," Mike said immediately. "I don't know why...I'm really sorry."

"It's okay," I said. My heart was pounding from the kiss and lack of air, and it was hard for me to think.

"I just got caught up in the moment," Mike went on. He seemed really worried. "I didn't mean to."

"It's okay," I said again. "I understand."

"Should we keep practicing, then?" Mike asked uncertainly. I nodded.

"Let me just get my shirt," I said, turning back to my backpack.

Mike chuckled, his face still bright red. "That's probably a good idea," he agreed, picking his shirt up off the floor.

After about thirty more minutes, we had done the routine perfectly several times, so I decided to go home. Mike walked me to the front door and I went outside, the cold air feeling good against my sweaty skin. I breathed deeply. "Finally I can cool down!" I said.

Mike bit his lip and I blushed, realizing that maybe he thought I meant something different. "So—good practice," he said awkwardly. "I'll see you tomorrow, I guess."

"Alright," I said. "See you." He went back inside and closed the door as I walked towards the sidewalk. While I walked home, I thought about what I had done. I smiled. It had been pretty hot. Now I knew why Santana and Puck were always kissing so much. Kissing was really fun. Mike had seemed so uncomfortable that I doubted it would happen again, but it had been good while it lasted. And the way his body had looked, just...wow. Remembering Santana, I pulled out my phone and started typing a text message.

_The rumors are true. Saw his abs._

I had past several houses before I got a text back.

_Come over, I want details NOW._

I laughed and turned around, walking back to Santana's house. She was going to be so jealous when she heard about this.


	4. Rachel

_May 2008_

When I was in eighth grade, my favorite class was creative writing. A lot of people hated it, but I thought it was so fun. Over the first month, I wrote a series of short stories about Lord Tubbington, and Mrs. Roberts told me that they were very imaginative. I wanted her to think that I had a good imagination, so I didn't tell her that they were all true. Anyway, my favorite assignment came in May. When everyone got to class and sat down, Mrs. Roberts said, "I want you all to write a story today about your first crush." Everyone in the class started whispering. Some people giggled, but others looked kind of embarrassed. "It doesn't need to be sexual," she continued, making more people laugh. "Just try to remember when you were very young, meeting someone who you couldn't stop looking at. Someone who you really wanted to be friends with."

I smiled. My first crush was easy to remember. I decided to write a story about the first day of kindergarten, the day I met Santana. She came into the room and I remember that I dropped my crayons because I was so surprised by how beautiful she was. I pulled open my notebook and began to write really fast. When I was about five sentences in, Suzy Pepper turned around in her seat to face me. "I can't think of anything," she whispered. "What are you writing about?"

"Um." I paused with my pen above the page. I hadn't said Santana's name yet, but I had just started to describe her hair and her skin and the way she had first looked at me with one of her eyebrows raised. I didn't really want to tell Suzy who I was writing about, but I saw her eyes flicker down to the page and move back and forth as she read my paragraph. Then she looked up at me strangely.

"Oh," she said before turning back. I shrugged and kept on writing.

By the end of the day, everyone in the class seemed to know about my creative writing assignment. They didn't know who it was about, but they seemed very interested by the thought that my first crush was a girl. I wanted to ask Santana to explain to me why they suddenly seemed to think I was a freak, but for some reason, she was nowhere to be found. She seemed to be avoiding me, and as the day went on, I became more and more miserable. When the last bell finally rang, I practically ran to my locker, ready to get my books and go home. But for some reason, Rachel Berry was standing there waiting for me. "Hello Brittany," she said brightly.

"What do you want?" I asked, sounding meaner than I meant to. I wasn't mad at her, but I really wanted to go home. Rachel, however, didn't seem to get the message.

"Well, I don't know if you remember, but we used to be quite friendly in elementary school," she began. "We took dance together, as I recall."

"I remember," I said.

I turned away from her, facing my locker. As I began to spin the lock, she said, "I heard about the story you wrote."

"I'm sorry if I made you mad," I said, trying not to sound as upset as I felt, "but everyone else already made it clear that it was wrong, so don't worry. I won't do it again."

"No," Rachel said quickly. "No, Brittany, I wanted to say that I thought it was very...admirable of you. I have two gay dads," she explained. "I've had to deal with animosity from my peers for my entire life and to see someone be so open and unapologetic about their sexual orientation was really inspiring to me. So I just wanted to say that I applaud your bravery."

"Oh." I didn't really understand what Rachel meant, except the part about having two dads, which was interesting because I never knew that. I had never heard of someone having two dads before. I wondered if there were kids who had two moms. "Um, thank you," I said.

"You're very welcome," Rachel replied. She looked around the hallway and suddenly she seemed nervous. I wondered why.

"Well I guess I'm going to get my stuff now," I said, pointing at my locker.

"Hold on," Rachel reached out to put her hand on my arm. She looked down at where we were touching and pulled away quickly. Then she took a deep breath. "As you can imagine, growing up with gay fathers, I have an intrinsically different ideology from most children," she began.

"Okay," I said.

"Unlike many of our classmates, I have not been sheltered from the idea of homosexuality. My fathers never made the assumption that I would be interested in boys. As a result, I find that I am far more willing than most people to be open to all types of experimentation. Unfortunately, I have not been able to fully explore my options due to the regrettably closed-minded atmosphere in Lima, but now here _you_ are..." Rachel bit her lip. "We know each other well, and you're aesthetically pleasing to me, and I think that there could be some potential here. If you're agreeable, I think it would be interesting, to say the least, if we explored some kind of relationship...whether or not it would work, I can't honestly say, but if we were to give it a try, with no expectations for one another, just to see what happens...say, one dinner, perhaps, and then if things are disastrous, we can simply say that it was a friendly outing and be done with it." The longer she went on, the faster she started talking, until I began to feel overwhelmed and held up a hand for her to stop.

"Rachel," I said, feeling immensely confused.

"Yes?" she asked anxiously.

"Are you trying to get me to ask you on a date?"

Rachel turned a deep shade of red. "Maybe," she said in a small voice. She looked so worried that I started to laugh a little bit. When I did, she began to look even more horrified. "Oh God," she breathed. "I've completely missed the mark, haven't I? Please don't tell anyone. Especially not Santana. I promise I'll leave you alone."

I stopped laughing immediately, realizing that she thought I was making fun of her. "Stop talking," I said. Rachel just nodded. Then, without really thinking about it, I asked, "Will you go out with me this weekend?"

Rachel's face lit up immediately and it made me feel warm inside. "Yes, absolutely," she said. "Thank you so much."

"You're going to have to talk less, though," I said. "Or at least use smaller words."

Rachel laughed. "I promise."

For the rest of the week, I could barely concentrate in school. I was busy planning out our date, and I was kind of nervous. My parents had always told me that the most important thing to look for on the first date was a guy that acted like a gentleman, and I wanted to make sure that I was respectful. But I was worried. Would it be different with two girls? How was I supposed to act? Santana would probably know the answer because she always seemed to know everything, but she continued to avoid me all week. So I planned the date all by myself, and on Friday evening, I got everything ready and went over to the park.

I made sure I was a little bit early so that Rachel wouldn't get there before me, and I sat on one of the tables until she arrived. When she saw me, she waved excitedly and hurried over. Instead of wearing the skirt and sweater that she had been wearing that day at school, she was dressed in jeans and a white tank-top. Her hair was down and she was a lot cuter than I remembered. I blushed a little bit as she got closer. "Hi," I said.

"Hi yourself," she replied, sitting down on the table next to me. "So are you finally going to tell me what you planned for this surprise date?"

I looked over at the basket next to me, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I thought we should have a picnic," I said quietly.

Rachel beamed and I immediately felt better. "That's so cute," she said.

I smiled. "Good," I said, getting up and picking up the basket. I set it down on the grass and took out a blanket for us to sit on. We both sat down and Rachel looked up at me, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She was blushing a little bit, and I started to feel tingly. "I wasn't sure what people ate on picnics or what you liked to eat, so I made waffles," I explained. "Since everyone likes waffles. Except now that I think about it, it's sort of a dumb thing to eat for dinner."

"Oh, Brittany," Rachel said with a laugh. "You're adorable." She pulled the picnic basket close to her and began to unpack it.

Things became less awkward after we started eating. Rachel liked to talk, which I appreciated because it took away a lot of the pressure. We talked about school and dancing and she told me about how she had started voice lessons and hoped to join the Glee Club in high school. I didn't know what a Glee Club was, but when she explained it, it actually sounded really fun. "Can you join Glee Club to dance?" I asked.

"Of course," Rachel said. "We always need backup dancers. It makes the performance more dynamic."

"I think I want to join Glee Club, too," I said. "But I have to do Cheerios." Since we were little, Santana had talked nonstop about how we were going to join the Cheerios when we got into high school. Now that eighth grade was almost over, we had just started practicing for our tryout in the fall.

"I think you can do both," Rachel said. "It would be cool if you did. Apparently, cheerleaders don't usually get along with people in the Glee Club."

"That's silly," I said. Rachel smiled adorably, and I found myself wondering why Santana and I were always so mean to her. She was cool. Being out with her was different than being out with a boy, too. I mean, I had liked dating Finn and I had gone on dates with a few other people since then, but being with Rachel was more comfortable. Plus, she didn't stare at my boobs while I talked, and she seemed to care about more than just kissing. As we finished eating, though, I started to wish she would try to get a little more inappropriate. We were still sitting across from each other on the blanket, not even close enough for me to reach out and hold her hand. I tried to scoot closer to see if she would take the hint, but she seemed to be talking too much to notice. "Do you want to go to the play structure?" I asked when there was a pause in the conversation.

Rachel looked around. It was starting to get dark, and everyone but us had gone home for the night. "Sure," she said. We got up from the blanket and I followed Rachel to the swings. We both sat down and she began to move back and forth slowly, tracing circles in the sand with her toe. "This is a good date," she said. "Most guys just wanna go to the movies so that we can make out instead of talk."

"Yeah," I said. "That's true." I was surprised at how much Rachel seemed to know about dating. I wondered if she had actually dated a lot of guys before, or if she was just pretending. I glanced over at her slyly. "Does that mean we're not going to make out?" I asked.

Rachel blushed a deep red. "I don't know," she said. "Are we?" She looked uncertain.

"Whatever you want," I said, not wanting to pressure her into anything. After all, she _had_ said she wasn't sure if she was into girls. But she had complimented me twice, so...

"Let's go on the structure," Rachel said, standing up abruptly. I shrugged and stood up from my swing. We walked over to the play structure and she began to climb up. "I haven't been on one of these forever," she said with a laugh.

"Really?" I called up to her, leaning down in front of the slide to build a sand castle. The sand was too soft and it ended up being more of a sand hill. "I come here all the time. Santana says it's babyish but I know she likes it, too."

"Santana is strange that way," Rachel said, walking over to the slide. She paused at the top and leaned against the railing. "Why are you friends with her, anyway?"

I shrugged. "We've been friends forever," I said.

"You and I were friends too, but that stopped a few years ago," Rachel replied. She looked a little bit hurt, and I felt bad for teasing her so much in sixth grade. "Why her? I mean, you guys are opposites. You're so nice and she's just..." Rachel trailed off, looking like she regretted saying anything. "You know," she finished quickly.

"She's a good person," I said, feeling awkward. "Sometimes she just gets a little jealous or angry and she has trouble controlling it."

Rachel nodded. "I just think she needs to learn when to stop," she said. Quickly, she added, "I don't blame _you_, though. You're a sweetie." When she said that, my whole body got warm and I couldn't stop a huge grin from spreading across my face. I hid my smile behind my hand, but luckily Rachel didn't notice it. She was looking down at the slide. "I don't know if I should go down it," she said. "I think I'm too big."

"I go on the slide all the time," I told her. "It's fine. I'll catch you at the bottom."

Rachel laughed. "Okay," she said. She sat down on the top of the slide. "Ready?"

"For sure," I replied. Rachel pushed herself off and slid down very slowly, coming to a stop right in front of me.

"Well, that was anti-climactic," she said, standing up. I laughed.

"Yeah, it used to go faster when I was littler, but..." I trailed off. I suddenly realized that we were only a few inches away from each other, and that she was looking up at me quietly. She didn't move, either, so I took a step forward, placing a hand on each of her cheeks. When she didn't pull away, I leaned in softly and took her bottom lip between mine.

It felt amazing. Rachel didn't try to grab me or force her tongue into my mouth, she just moved her lips gently against mine. I knew instantly that I had been right all along—it _was_ the same thing as kissing a boy, or maybe it was even better, but it definitely wasn't worse and it definitely wasn't wrong. Santana was usually so smart, but she had messed up when she said that it was different, that it wasn't supposed to happen. I kissed Rachel until I felt her starting to pull away, and then I respectfully let go and looked at her. She ran her fingers across her lips and looked at me apprehensively. "Sorry," I said. "Was that okay?"

"It was definitely more than okay..." Rachel began, still trailing her fingers across the place where my lips had just been. "You're a good kisser," she said.

I blushed. "Thanks."

"But..." She looked apologetic and my heart started to sink. I already wanted to kiss her again, but I could see where this was going. "But for some reason it just doesn't feel quite right."

I sighed. "It's okay," I said. "I understand."

"Look, Brittany," Rachel said, stepping forward and taking my hand. "This has been an amazing night. And I know that if I didn't feel sparks kissing _you_, then I must really not be into girls. Because you did everything perfectly."

Despite my disappointment, I felt good when she said that. "Thanks," I said quietly. I was glad that I had done the date right, anyway. I had been particularly nervous about that.

"And I want us to still be friends," she said firmly.

"Of course." Then I shrugged. "That's probably better. I don't know if I _like_ like you anyway. But you do have really soft lips."

Rachel giggled. "Thanks, I guess," she said.

"Can I kiss them again? Just one more time?"

Rachel smacked me playfully on the shoulder. "If we're going to be friends, no funny business," she said, but her eyes were twinkling and I knew that she took my interest as a compliment. "Now come on, I bet I can do the monkey bars faster than you."

I shook my head. "Most people don't know it, but I'm actually a monkey bar pro."

"Well, maybe that's just because you haven't raced me yet," she said. "Come on, let's go." She turned and hurried towards the monkey bars. I laughed and followed her.

We played at the park for a little bit longer before it got too dark to see anymore. After that, we had to walk opposite ways to get home, so we said goodbye on the sidewalk. Rachel gave me a tight hug. "Thank you," she said. "I had a lot of fun."

"Me too," I said. Unable to control myself, I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "Sorry," I said once I had done it.

She giggled. "It's okay. See you Monday," she said, waving as she started to walk down the sidewalk.

"Bye," I replied. I watched her until it was too dark to see her anymore, and then I began to go to my own house. Even though I had technically been rejected, I still felt really good, and I found myself humming as I walked. I swung the picnic basket back and forth in my hand.

When I got home, I was surprised to see Santana sitting on my doorstep. Her chin was resting on her hands, and when she saw me approaching, she got up and hurried down the driveway towards me. "Your mom told me you went somewhere with Rachel," she said when I reached her.

"Yeah." I shrugged. "I did." I knew she was probably mad about me and Rachel hanging out, but I didn't want to apologize. I was mad that she had been ignoring me all week.

Santana bit her lip. "A date?" she asked.

I thought about lying, but Santana seemed to know the truth already, so I said, "Yeah. But we're not girlfriends now or anything."

Santana breathed out a long breath. Her shoulders dropped. "Good," she said.

I frowned. "Good?"

"You realized you're not into her. That's good."

"Actually, it was sort of the other way around," I said. "I mean, I maybe could have liked her but she said she realized she doesn't like girls, so we're just going to be friends."

Santana looked at me for a long time. "Did you kiss her?" she asked finally.

"Yes," I said carefully, waiting for her reaction. Normally, we shared details of all our dates and kisses, but this time, she sounded more like she was accusing me of something. I wanted to tell her everything, but for the first time in my life, I felt like I couldn't.

"Did you like it?" Santana asked. She looked like she was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"I...I did," I admitted. There was a long silence. Santana turned and walked slowly back to the porch. She sat down, staring intensely at something invisible on the ground. I stood beside her, not sure what to say, watching as her leg began to shake and she brought a hand to her thigh to steady it. When she finally looked back up at me, she looked shocked.

"You're..." she began. "You're..."

"I'm what?" I asked.

She shook her head back and forth really fast. "Brittany, you're...um...do you like girls?"

"...yes," I said slowly, looking at her in confusion. I couldn't figure out why she was acting so strange. Duh, I liked girls.

"And boys?" she asked, her voice sounding higher than usual.

"Yes," I said again. Santana's eyes snapped back to the ground. I was starting to feel kind of mad. She could at least tell me what was wrong.

"You're..." she began again. This time, I didn't let her finish.

"Spit it out!" I said angrily. Santana looked up in surprise, and she seemed to snap out of her trance. She stood up and looked at me apologetically.

"Nothing," she said. Then she took a deep breath. "Next time you like a girl, you can tell me," she said. "Just so you know."

I suddenly felt very relieved. "Okay," I said. "I will."

"Good." She still looked a little shocked, but calmer than she did before. "I think your mom was making popcorn. Do you wanna watch a movie and you can tell me about your date?"

"Yeah!" I said. "I do. Let's go."

"Okay." We turned to go inside and Santana tentatively reached for my pinky. I looked down at our linked fingers in surprise, and when I looked up at Santana, she was smiling shyly. "You're the best friend ever, San," I said.

"Thanks," she replied. "You are too."


	5. Puck

**A/N: I just quickly wanted to say thanks for the reviews. I'm so glad you're enjoying this story! For people who were wondering: it's gonna cover everyone who is or was in the Glee Club, up until the end of the second season I think (because after that I like to think that our Britt was faithful to her girlfriend!) and I'm trying to stick to canon as much as I possibly can. So yeah, thanks for reading, and I love reading your nice reviews, they make me so happy!**

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><p><em>September 2008<em>

In ninth grade, Santana and I made a new friend. Her name was Quinn Fabray, and she was beautiful.

Most of our class at McKinley High had gone to our middle school, but Quinn was new. When she walked in on the first day, almost every single person stopped what they were doing to look at her. Santana and I were at our new lockers when I saw her walking towards us. "Santana," I whispered, nudging her with my arm. "Who is that?"

Santana turned and looked at her, and I waited for the insults to come pouring out. But she didn't say a word. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes followed Quinn all the way down the hall. She seemed completely speechless, and it wasn't until Quinn finally turned the corner that Santana spoke. "I don't know," she said. "But we should find out."

We didn't have to wait that long to find out, either. There was a lunch meeting for freshmen who were interested in trying out for the Cheerios (we weren't allowed to bring our lunches, though), and when Santana and I got there, Quinn was already sitting down in the front row. We sat behind her, and as our new coach, Coach Sylvester, talked to us, I kept looking at the back of Quinn's head. She had blond hair like mine, but it was shinier and more beautiful. Whenever she made the tiniest movement, a little tingle went up my spine. I was looking at her so hard that I didn't even notice the meeting had ended until Santana grabbed onto my hand and pulled me out of my seat. She dragged me quickly towards the door of the gym, where she reached out and bravely tapped Quinn on the shoulder.

Quinn turned around and as her eyes locked with mine, my legs started to feel shaky and weak. I reached out and touched Santana's arm to steady myself as she gave Quinn a smile that reminded me of the kind that she always gave Puck or Finn. It was the smile she always had when she was plotting. "Hi," she said. "I'm Santana and this is Brittany."

"Oh," Quinn said, shifting her weight awkwardly from one foot to the next. "I'm Quinn. Nice to meet you."

"You too," Santana said. I couldn't do anything except nod like an idiot. "We noticed that you're new here, so if you need help or anything, we're available. Anything to help out a fellow Cheerio." She was smiling so brightly that I was surprised Quinn's eyes didn't start to burn.

Quinn looked a little bit surprised, but then she gave a small smile in return—a real one that made my heart beat fast. "Thanks," she said. "I could use some friends."

"Cool," Santana said. "So we'll see you at practice?"

Quinn nodded. "Okay. See you."

As she walked away, I let out a long breath and Santana looked over at me with her eyes narrowed. "You helped a lot in that situation," she said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry," I replied, wiping my sweaty hands on my shorts. "You didn't even tell me what we were doing. Besides, usually when we go talk to people, it's so we can be mean."

"Please," Santana said. "I would never be mean to a girl like _that_. It's obvious she's going to have a lot of heat around here. I was getting us on her side before it's too late."

I squinted. "I don't get it."

Santana sighed and started to walk out of the gym. I followed her. "She's going to help us," Santana explained. "There are new rules in high school. Sure, I had Puck and you've had...some good and some bad, but nobody here knows that yet. We're starting over fresh and if we want to be popular, we need to be friends with someone who can carry the Head Bitch title. That girl right there," she pointed ahead to where Quinn was walking, too far away to hear what we were saying, "she's going to be the one to do it. Gorgeous, yet alluringly innocent...if she's smart, too, we might as well start handing over our souls."

As Santana complimented Quinn, I felt a goofy grin spread across my face. "She's cute," I said, feeling better now that I knew Santana approved. "I wonder if she likes girls."

"She probably doesn't," Santana said immediately. I looked up at her in surprise. I hadn't expected that tone from her. "I'm sorry," Santana said, but her voice still sounded strained. "It's just that girls like her usually don't."

"Oh," I said. I looked at the ground. If girls like Quinn didn't like girls, then what kind of girl was I?

"Hey," Santana said softly, seeing that I looked sad. "It's okay, remember? You like boys, too."

"I don't see what boys has to do with it," I said.

"You and I are going to get some serious action this year," she said. "You just wait. It's not middle school anymore. We have hundreds of guys to pick from now. Older guys," she said, looking at me suggestively.

I smiled. "I like older guys."

"Good," Santana said with a nod. "Now, we need to find ourselves a party."

It took several weeks, but we finally did become friends with Quinn _and_ find ourselves a party. It turned out that Quinn was exactly what Santana said she would be, and more. Two different people asked her out in only the first week of school. She got invited to three parties on the first Saturday of the year, and she had to flip a coin the pick one. It seemed like somebody had put a love potion in the drinking fountain to make people go crazy for Quinn Fabray. I started to bring my own water from home, but there was probably love potion in that, too, because I couldn't stop looking at her. Even though Santana had told me that I shouldn't think about Quinn _like that, _I still offered to carry her books sometimes or to help her out with her dance routines. I think that's the real reason she became friends with us, although Santana thought it was all because her own plan was working really well. Anyway, when a senior who was in love with Quinn invited the three of us to his party, that's when I knew we were "in." Santana was ecstatic.

Santana's brother was friends with the senior throwing the party, so he drove all of us there. Quinn was even more excited that Santana, if that were possible. "I can't wait," she said, reaching across the backseat of Christian's car and grabbing my hand. "Our first party. It's going to be awesome."

"I can't wait, either," I said, my face heating up like it always did whenever Quinn touched me. I had given up trying to stop my embarrassing reaction because _anyone_ would have trouble ignoring how pretty Quinn was. Sometimes, I thought Santana knew when my mind went into the gutter because she would glare at me a little bit, but I just pretended not to notice her. That night, Quinn was wearing more makeup than usual and I could almost see down the front of her shirt. I struggled to control my breathing, thankful that Santana was in the front with her brother and couldn't see me.

"I heard Finn is going to be there," Quinn continued. "I hope he notices me."

"He will," Santana assured her. "You look great." When Quinn had told us that she liked Finn, I was a little bit surprised that Santana didn't immediately make fun of her. But then again, Finn was now the second-string Varsity quarterback and the only freshman on the Varsity team, so it made sense that a popular girl like Quinn would want to date him. Besides, Santana never challenged Quinn.

"I don't know why there are so many freshmen at this party," Christian complained. "It's no fun when there are a bunch of kids who freak out over the beer and stuff."

Santana flipped her hair confidently over her shoulder. "We don't freak out over beer," she said. "I don't know why people make such a big deal over alcohol, anyway." I almost laughed, because Santana made more of a big deal out of alcohol than anyone else. But I didn't say anything.

"I don't drink," Quinn said. "But it doesn't matter. I'm not here for that, I just want to see Finn."

I expected Santana to tell Quinn to stop being so boy-crazy and act cool, but she didn't. Instead she said, "Drinking isn't all that great. Beer tastes pretty gross, honestly."

We pulled up in front of a big house with an open gate that led into a huge round driveway. Most people were parking on the street, but Christian went straight into the driveway and parked near the front door. As we got out, a bunch of people stared at us. Two seniors came over to us and gave Christian high-fives. They said hi to Santana, who nodded in return, the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips. Beside her, Quinn ran her fingers through her hair confidently as one of Christian's friends very obviously checked her out. Next to both of them, I felt awkward and ugly, wishing I had worn a skirt instead of jeans and wishing that I wasn't almost a head taller than both of my friends.

The seniors started going towards the house, so we followed them. Through the doorway was an entrance hall, and beyond that was a large living room. The couches had been pushed aside to make room for a dance floor and there were several speakers around the room, playing music so loudly that you couldn't hear anyone unless they were talking right in your ear. In the corner, there was a table covered with bottles and cans and plastic red cups. Santana walked towards it while Quinn wandered in the other direction. After a moment of hesitation, I hurried after Santana. It was a little quieter at the drinks table, so we could talk more easily. "Where's Quinn?" I asked as Santana grabbed two red cups and a bottle of orange juice.

"I don't know," Santana said, pouring the juice into the cups. When she was done, she put the bottle down and grabbed the vodka. I scanned the crowd nervously. I didn't want Quinn to get lost in this mass of people that we didn't even know.

"Found her," I said, pointing to the other side of the room. "Wow, she's good." Quinn had already managed to find Finn. He was leaning against the wall, listening to her talk with a slight blush on his face. Next to him, Puck was staring straight at Quinn's chest, and my stomach bubbled with anger as I thought that he probably wasn't listening to anything she was saying. There was also another boy that I didn't recognize, standing eagerly to one side. He had a huge afro of brown hair that fanned around his face like a cloud, and as I watched, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and snapped a picture of the three of them. I shuddered. "Creep."

Santana handed me my drink and looked over to where I was looking. "Dammit, Puck's here," she said. "Does he ever _not_ go to a party?"

"So you guys are fighting again?" I asked, taking a sip of my drink. It tasted so strong that I almost spit it out. "What is this?" I choked.

"A Screwdriver," Santana said, taking a large gulp. She grimaced and then sighed. "Puck and I haven't really been together since the summer. And he's been seriously bothering me lately."

"Oh," I said. I forced myself to take another sip of my drink.

"It doesn't matter. We need to find some guys to talk to. Come on." She dragged me, drink in hand, towards the other side of the room.

We joined Quinn and her posse of boys for a little while. A few other guys who I didn't recognize came to talk to us, too. Santana did most of the talking. I kept sipping on my drink, talking only when someone talked directly to me. I was starting to feel a little bit dizzy, and my brain wasn't working very well. After a while, Finn asked Quinn to dance—or maybe it was the other way around—and we were left alone with some creepy guys and Puck, who was getting a little tipsy and was starting to look at us suggestively. Santana scoffed and took my almost empty cup from my hands, setting it down next to hers. "Come on," she said, grabbing my hand. "Let's go dance."

She pulled me over to the center of the dance floor. When we got there, I tried to pull my hand away, but she grabbed my other hand instead of letting go. She pulled me closer and closer as we began to dance, and the vodka in me made my brain go cloudy. When it got to the point where I could smell her perfume in the air around me, she let go of my hands and threw her arms around my neck. She leaned in so her face was inches from mine. "Dance with me," she breathed.

I was beginning to feel funny, and it wasn't just from the drink. Before I knew what I was doing, I put my hands on her hips and began to lead her in a rhythm. A Britney Spears song came on next, filling my ears, and just like when I danced on stage, I started to forget about the people around me as I swayed to the beat. I slid my arms up to Santana's back and tightened them, pulling her closer. I felt her head come down to rest on my shoulder and I breathed in the scent of her hair, feeling shocks travel through my body as I did so. I was vaguely aware that several people were looking at us but I didn't care—I needed her closer and I pulled her chest against me, feeling one of her legs slip between mine. We hadn't been this close in a long time and it felt good, better than I remembered. The music sped up and she started grinding into me, her hips pressing against mine. She was sliding up and down my thigh as we moved and I started feeling an ache between my legs that I had never felt before. I shivered, accidentally digging my nails into her back, but she didn't seem to feel the pain. She moved faster, losing the rhythm of the song as she started breathing hard into my shirt. As she turned her head to the side, her lips grazed my neck. We both moaned at the same time, and suddenly her body wasn't on me anymore.

I looked up in surprise as Santana pulled away and put several inches of space between us. She looked up at me in shock. Her face was flushed and her eyes were darker than usual, and I could see her chest rising and falling rapidly. I realized that several people were watching us curiously and I blushed, reaching out to pull Santana back towards me so that she could stop making a scene. But Santana just looked at me helplessly and rushed off the dance floor. She went straight for the drinks table and I swayed dizzily on the spot, wondering if I should follow her or leave her alone. Before I could make up my mind, however, I felt strong arms wrap around me from behind. "You do realize that was the hottest thing I've ever seen right?" Puck said into my ear as he began rocking me to the music. He hands flattened across my abs and I pressed my back into his chest, breathing heavily. My whole body felt like it was on fire.

"Let's stop dancing," I said. "I'm hot."

"I know you are," Puck said. "So am I. And I bet Santana is, too." The room started to spin around me and I grabbed Puck's hands for support. He intertwined our fingers and continued to grind against my back. "You guys looked like you were about to start fucking right then and there."

"She doesn't like girls," I said breathlessly. The room just kept moving and I closed my eyes, hoping that would help. It did, a little bit.

"But _you_ like girls, don't you?" Puck said. I didn't answer and he laughed. I could feel the vibration of his chest against my back. "Mmm, I don't blame you," he said. "Girls are hot."

I kept my eyes closed and kept moving at a steady rhythm. It was helping to clear my head a little bit. I could feel the muscles in my legs starting to burn from the exertion, but I forced myself to ignore it until it went away. It wasn't like I hadn't danced for long periods of time before, anyway. Puck and I settled into a comfortable pace and I finally felt solid enough to open my eyes. After several songs, Puck spun me around suddenly, and his hands slid down my back to settle on my ass. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lay against his chest. It felt nice. "You have a strong chest," I murmured.

"Damn right I do," Puck said. Even though I couldn't see his face, I could picture his satisfied smile. Then he said, "So you like boys too, then?"

"Sure," I said, feeling sleepy. "I like everyone."

Puck reached a hand up suddenly and placed it on my chin, pulling my face up so that our eyes were locked. "Then you won't get mad if I do this," he whispered before leaning forward and pressing his lips to mine.

It took me about three seconds to figure out what was going on, but once I did, I pulled back sharply. "Don't," I said.

Puck's face fell. "Why?"

"You're dating Santana." I let go of his neck and took several steps back.

"I'm not dating her _anymore_," Puck said coming towards me and grabbing my waist again. "Come on, Britt," he whined. "It doesn't matter."

"It does," I protested, looking back towards the drink table. Santana wasn't there. I scanned the crowd and then I saw her, leaning against a wall by herself, holding a beer can in her hand. I took one look at her shocked face and my stomach dropped. "I have to go," I said.

"Dammit, just forget about her, she doesn't like me anyway!" Puck said. Ignoring him, I pushed through the crowd and went straight over to her. When she saw me coming, she tried to run away, but she stumbled and had to hold onto the wall for support. I caught up to her and grabbed her arms. She struggled to get away, but I held on tightly until she finally gave up and leaned back against the wall, shaking. Tears were streaming down her face and I looked on in horror, not knowing what to do.

"I saw what you did!" she sobbed, her words blending together so it was hard to understand her. "Why did you do that?"

I looked at her helplessly. "I'm so sorry," I said, feeling on the verge of tears myself. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't want to. It was just for a second."

Santana shook her head back and forth. "You danced with him. Why were you dancing with him?"

"He just came up behind me," I said quietly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you still liked him so much."

"Him?" Santana sobbed loudly, and she slid down the wall in anguish. People were starting to stare, and I tried to shush her. I reached down and gently pulled the beer out of her hands, setting it down on the ground. It was empty.

"How much have you had to drink?" I asked nervously.

"I don't know," Santana said tearfully. "A lot." Her hands were shaking and I started to feel nervous. I had never seen her like this before.

"Okay, okay," I said, trying to soothe her. "Um, let me take you somewhere else." I grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, and she allowed me to drag her away. Trying to keep her hidden from the people who were staring, I scanned the crowd for Christian. He was talking to a very pretty girl, and as we approached, he took one look at the two of us and pulled his keys out of his pocket.

"Just take her to the car," he said before I could even say anything. I sighed and took the keys. I had been hoping Christian would help, but he obviously didn't want to be distracted right now, so I led Santana back to to the front room. The lights were on in there, and I could fully see Santana's red and blotchy face, her smudged makeup, and her bright red eyes. It looked like she had been crying even before I had gone and talked to her, and I wondered if she had been alone the entire time that I was with Puck. Feeling terrible, I wrapped an arm firmly around her shoulders and led her out the door and towards Christian's car. As I let go of her to unlock it, she slumped against the door, hiccuping and wiping her eyes.

"Do you think you're going to throw up?" I asked, remembering what my mom had told me about the effects of alcohol. But Santana shook her head. "Okay." I pulled open the back door and helped her climb in. I went in after her, and as soon as I closed the door, she tackled me, wrapping her arms around me and crying into my shoulder. I reached an arm behind her body and held her tightly, not knowing what to say, hoping she would calm down.

"I don't want you to do that again," she said. "Never, ever again."

"I won't, I promise," I said, stroking her hair softly. Slowly, her body stopped shaking, and soon her breathing became even. I leaned my cheek against the top of her head, closing my eyes as exhaustion overcame me. Just when I thought that she had fallen asleep, I heard her murmur something into my shirt. "What did you say?" I whispered.

"Mine," she repeated, her voice slurred.

"I know," I said softly. "I know. He's yours."


	6. Santana

__**A/N: I'm finally back! This chapter is a littttttttle bit shorter than usual, but hopefully the content makes up for that :) Thanks for reading!**

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><p><em>May 2009<em>

At the end of the year, McKinley made it to the baseball championship. It was a really big deal because McKinley never got good at anything. We didn't usually cheer at baseball games, but since it was a big one, Coach Sylvester wanted all of us to be there. Santana told me that if the team won, they would get to go to State. "I went to a state once," I told her.

"Coach is going to be a nightmare, I can already tell," Santana replied. "She's going to need us to be perfect. And we haven't even done our cheers since basketball season ended."

Santana was right. The weekend before the big game, Coach made us have a boot camp. We had to sleep at school on Saturday night so that we could practice for the entire day. We set up air mattresses in the gym and ordered pizza for dinner. I was so excited to have a big sleepover with everyone, but by the time the practice ended, nobody wanted to do anything except sleep. Unfortunately, Coach made Santana and I put away all the pom poms and uniforms, since we were the youngest on team. She didn't even make Quinn help. By the time we finished, everyone else had already gone to the gym to lie down. Santana and I went into the locker room to shower.

"I'm so sleepy," I called out over the sound of the pounding water. My voice bounced off the tiles and went over to Santana in the stall next to mine.

"I know," she called back. "I think I'm gonna go to sleep in here."

"Don't," I said. "I once went to sleep in the shower and I almost drowned."

Santana laughed. "Of course you did, Britt."

She was silent for a little bit and I reached for my shampoo, squeezing it onto my hand. As I began to wash my hair, the quiet started to make me worried. "Santana," I said. "You didn't fall asleep, did you?" Santana made a loud snoring sound and I giggled. "Wake up, silly!"

"No." She kept snoring until she finally started to laugh. Once she started, she didn't stop, so I started to laugh with her. "Oh my God," she gasped. "I'm so tired."

"Me too," I whined, putting my head under the stream and closing my eyes so I wouldn't get any shampoo in them. "It's making me get the giggles."

"I think I'm delirious," Santana said, still laughing. "I can barely stand. Britt!"

"San!" I said, mimicking her tone. I rubbed conditioner through my hair and stood away from the water, letting it soak in.

"I'm getting out," Santana said, and a moment later, I heard her water shut off. Then there was the sound of splashing as her feet hit against the wet tile. "Ugh...where are my clothes..."

I leaned back and washed the conditioner out of my hair, not wanting Santana to leave without me. When I was done, I shut off of the water and reached out through the curtain, grabbing my puffy towel and wrapping it around me so that I wouldn't be cold. Then I stepped out into the locker room. Santana had pulled on a pair of short shorts and a tank top, and she was bent over, drying her hair vigorously with a towel. I dropped my own towel to the floor and began to rummage through my bag for my big t-shirt. I pulled it over my head and then grabbed my underwear. As I began to pull it up my legs, I looked up and noticed that Santana was watching me absently. "Perv!" I said.

Santana blinked hard and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I was falling asleep," she quickly.

"With your eyes open?" I asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Yes..." Santana looked at me and I looked back at her. Then she began to laugh. "No, I was checking out your hot bod!" she said.

"Good!" I replied. "I've worked hard on it."

"I can tell," Santana said, still laughing. She reached for her hairbrush and began to tug it through her wet hair. "I really don't want to have to blow dry this tonight," she said.

"Don't," I said, sitting down on the bench. "You look really awesome right now."

Santana stopped brushing. "Do I?"

I nodded. "You look like a mermaid," I said. "Like you just came out of the sea."

"Britt," Santana giggled. She shook her head. "You're not wearing any pants."

"Oh. I knew I was forgetting something." Santana began to laugh harder. "What? I'm not kidding."

"You kill me, Britt," she gasped. "Seriously, stop, my stomach hurts from laughing so much."

"Do you want a Tums?" I asked. Santana leaned back against one of the lockers, cracking up. "Get it together, woman!" I shouted at her. "I'm not even trying to be funny."

"I know, I know," Santana said. She was laughing so hard that there were tears in her eyes. "That's the best part!"

"You're seriously crazy," I said. "You need to go to sleep. I'm going to make you a bed right here, with my towel."

"Noooo," Santana said, taking several deep breaths. Then she hiccuped. "I'm fine."

"If you don't stop laughing, your ribs will crack!" I said. "Then you'll become a blob and I'll have to carry you around in a grocery bag." Santana started to laugh again, and I got up from the bench. "I'm serious!" I said, punching her in the arm.

"Ow!" she said. Then she shoved me away from her. "Put on some pants!"

"Not until you calm down!" I said. I grabbed my towel and threw it over her head, covering her eyes so she couldn't see. "You're on a time out," I told her.

"I hate you!" she said, stumbling forward with her arms outstretched. She fell into me and grabbed onto my neck to hold herself up. Then she reached up with one hand and and yanked the towel away from her face. "Hah," she said, looking right into my eyes.

Her nose was so close to mine that I could practically touch it with my own. "Hah," I said back. She wasn't laughing anymore, and I could feel her chest rise and fall against mine as she caught her breath. A droplet of water fell from her hair and clung to her eyelash. As I stared at it, she slowly moved her other arm around my neck.

"Do I still look like a mermaid?" she asked quietly.

"You look like a mer_man_," I joked. She narrowed her eyes and jerked her knee forward so that it dug into my leg.

"I hate you!" she exclaimed. Then she leaned forward into me and pressed her lips to mine.

At first I thought it was an accident, that she had meant to hug me and missed. But then she parted her lips slightly so that she could wrap them around one of mine. She tugged at it lightly, using the edge of her teeth, and I made a tiny squeaking sound. As I tried to lean in and brush my tongue against hers, she pulled away and looked at me with a devilish smile.

"That was-" she started to say, but I didn't let her finish. I reached my arms around her waist and pulled her into me, kissing her again, kissing her like a boy would kiss her. I gently moved our bodies until her back was flush against the lockers, and I felt her hands snake around my neck as she pulled me even closer to her. She rolled her hips against mine and moaned, tangling her fingers through my hair and tugging on it lightly. I pulled away to take a gasping breath and she buried her face in my neck, biting my skin and soothing the pain with her soft tongue.

"Santana," I moaned in a voice that didn't sound anything like my own. It sounded low and gravelly, and Santana must have liked it because she immediately pulled my lips back to her own and and began kissing me again. She was so, so good at it. I couldn't even imagine how she had gotten so good. Puck must have taught her well, or maybe she just magically knew how without even practicing. She looked like the kind of person that would just be born knowing how. "You're so sexy," I whispered against her lips.

"Mmm, Britt," Santana said, reaching one leg up around my waist. Her arms dropped to my waist and she tugged on my shirt, lifting it up so that my panties and the lower part of my stomach were exposed. "You look so hot like this," she said, sliding her other leg between mine. I leaned in so that my thigh was pressed right between her legs. It was warm.

"San..." my breath hitched as I began to flex my leg against her. She gasped and the leg around my waist tightened. Her head hit the lockers and the sound echoed throughout the empty room. "You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said breathlessly. "Just keep going."

"Mmkay," I said, leaning down to kiss her neck as I began to rock against her. She moaned again and brought her hands down to the small of my back, pinching my skin and then moving lower to grab onto my ass. She positioned me so that I was straddling her thigh, and suddenly I felt wetness between us. Santana's eyes shot open and she looked at me in surprise.

"Are you...?" she began.

"Sorry," I said, my voice sounding high and squeaky. My heart was pounding and I felt like if I didn't rub something between my legs, I might explode. I bit my lip and looked at her.

"It's okay," she said. "Keep going." Her eyes were wide but also very dark, and when I began to thrust my hips into hers, they fell closed and her tongue came out to moisten her lips. "Oh God..." she said.

She began to move her hips along with mine and I gasped. I had felt this feeling before, but not as good as this; the warmth was spreading all through my body and my skin felt like it was on fire. I worked my hips faster, searching for something, some feeling—I wasn't quite sure what it was but I knew that I was close, so close. "Do you..." I gasped out, "do you feel...do you feel that?"

"Yes," Santana hissed, and I hadn't even realized that my eyes were squeezed shut but I quickly opened them so I could look at her. She was staring up at the ceiling, her eyes cloudy, her mouth open and gasping for air. "M-maybe we—should stop," she panted.

"Okay," I choked out, but just then, my hips seemed to shoot forward of their own accord and I dropped my head to Santana's shoulder. "Fuck!" I said, and the dirty word felt good on my lips, but not as good as the feeling I got next. I cried out as my whole body began to shake, and I felt Santana grip me tighter as a wave of pleasure spread through me. I buried my head tightly in her neck and dug my fingernails into her skin, moaning. When it was finally over, I stepped back and fell onto the bench, my legs feeling like jello. Santana just looked at me with wide eyes as I brushed my sweaty, wet hair off my forehead.

"Brittany..." she said softly.

"I'm sorry," I gasped. "I—I didn't mean to."

Santana just looked at me strangely. Her face was flushed and her chest was rising and falling rapidly, but her eyes looked confused and even kind of scared. "It's...fine," she said slowly, stepping forward and picking up her towel. She put it into her bag and then went back towards the shower to collect her shampoo and conditioner. My heartbeat began to slow down and the warm feeling grew colder as Santana kept glancing up at me with that distant look in her eyes. Finally, she finished packing her bag, and she sat down so she could slide her flip-flops onto her feet.

"Are you leaving?" I asked, my voice cracking. I blushed and cleared my throat.

"Yeah," Santana said. "I'll meet you in the gym, I guess."

"Okay," I said, blinking back tears. My stomach felt like it was turning to lead as I saw the way she was dismissing me.

"See you," she said quickly before darting out of the locker room.

I sat there for a while longer, thinking about what had just happened, about the way that Santana had made me feel. I thought about the way she had kissed me and touched me, how I didn't think anyone else could ever be as good as her. "No," I said out loud, "you can't think that way. This is Santana. She's my best friend, she's not for sex." Then I got up and changed out of my sticky underwear before gathering my things.

When I got back to the room, the lights were off and girls were asleep. I tiptoed towards my air mattress as quietly as possible, glancing at Santana on the mattress next to mine as I set my bag on the floor. She was lying still but her closed eyelids were fluttering, and I had a feeling that she was only pretending to be asleep. With a sigh, I slid into my sleeping bag, trying not to think about her.

After a few minutes, or maybe it was an hour, I heard movement next to me. Opening my eye a crack, I saw that Santana had turned over on her stomach, the sleeping bag almost completely covering her head. She still appeared to be asleep except for a tiny pulsing movement somewhere within the sleeping bag. I watched it rose and fell somewhere down south—I couldn't tell the exact location but I could guess where the movement probably was. When Santana suddenly breathed in sharply, I turned quickly to face the other way, my eyes wide, heart pounding. She couldn't be doing what I thought she was doing...right?

I lay awake for a long time, even after Santana's muffled moans subsided.


	7. Quinn

__**A/N: Whoa sorry guys! I posted the wrong chapter, not sure how that happened, I must have really not been paying attention. Anyway here is the real one...enjoy.**

* * *

><p><em>July 2009<em>

Santana didn't talk about what happened between us ever again. We were really busy with the baseball championship, which McKinley lost. Then we had finals, and every time Santana and I were together, she forced me to study so that I could pass all of them. "I don't want you to repeat ninth grade," she said. "There's no way I'm gonna be a sophomore without you." I didn't bring up our kiss because I was scared, and then there was never a good time, and finally it just seemed like too much time had gone by for me to still talk about it with her. I realized it would probably never happen again, and it made me sad. Even though I knew it wasn't good to do stuff like that with people you weren't dating, there was just something about Santana that made it feel okay. Actually, it felt more than okay. It felt right.

A few days after school got out, she went off to Puerto Rico for a month. She didn't even stick around long enough to go to cheer camp, which made Coach Sylvester really mad. So I had to go to cheer camp alone, which was no fun at all. I barely got to talk to Santana for the entire month because my mom said that it was so expensive to call. I didn't want to waste the few phone conversations we got to have trying to talk to her about what had happened between us, so I tried to forget about it as I listened to her telling me about how much fun she was having with her cousins. When she mentioned that she had met a guy there, I excitedly asked her for all the details, trying not to let her hear how disappointed I was. I didn't even know why I was sad. Santana and I had kissed but we weren't going to become, like..._girlfriends _or anything. I wasn't even sure that I wanted to. I had never had a girlfriend before. It seemed weird to think about.

The night that Santana's plane was supposed to get in, Quinn had a slumber party for some of the Cheerios at her house. Coach had just told her that she was going to be captain for the new year, so she said it was her job to make sure that everyone bonded. I was sad that Santana wouldn't be able to make it, and I wanted to stay home and wait for her to get in, but my mom said no. Her flight was getting in near midnight, and anyway, I had to dedicate some time to my other friends. I wasn't sure why I needed other friends, but my mom gave me the look that said I shouldn't argue with her.

"What's up, Britt?" Quinn asked as the other girls put _Bring it On _into the DVD player. "You look kinda sad."

"Huh?" I was standing by the food table towards the back of the den, and I realized that I had been staring at a box of pizza for almost five minutes. "I'm not sad," I lied.

"Do you miss Santana?" Quinn asked. I nodded. "She's coming home soon, though, right?"

"Yeah, tonight," I said. "But my mom says I can't see her until tomorrow."

Quinn reached for my hand and squeezed it. "It's okay," she said. "You'll make it. How about I be your best friend for the night? I'll try to be Santana."

I smiled widely. "Okay!" I said. "Sounds good."

"Good," Quinn said. "Now let's get over to the couch. I wants to get my movie-watching on!"

I laughed at her impression of Santana and followed her over to the couch. It was a tight squeeze with everyone, and Quinn and I had to sit really close together. The smell of her flowerly lotion was filling the air and I was beginning to have some of the inappropriate thoughts that Santana told me not to have about Quinn. As the rest of the girls became immersed in the movie, I leaned close to Quinn's ear. "Santana and I like to cuddle," I whispered. It was dirty of me, but I couldn't help it.

Quinn laughed softly. "Sure, Britts," she said in her Santana voice. "We can gets our cuddle on, too." She reached one of her arms back and wrapped it over my shoulder, and I snuggled into her side.

The movie ended so fast that I began to wonder if someone had been sitting on the fast-forward button or something. I was disappointed because even though Quinn wasn't Santana, her body was still warm and soft and I wanted to snuggle up to her all night long. But when the credits started rolling, Quinn got up to go to the bathroom, and I knew that our cuddle session was over. Everyone began to lay out their sleeping bags and I dragged mine over to the corner, feeling sadder about Santana's absence now that Quinn was gone, too. One girl from our team began to surf the channels until she found a rerun of _One Tree Hill_. I started watching and didn't even notice when Quinn came back and dragged her sleeping back next to mine.

"Feeling better?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Kinda. I still miss her though."

Quinn chuckled. "Pretending to be her is fun," she said. "Let's see, what else would she do...she probably talks about guys a lot, right?"

"She does," I said, but I didn't tell her how it made me sad. Quinn smiled.

"Alright. Wanna hear about me and Finn?"

"Sure!" I said. Quinn and Finn had started dating at the end of the school year, and she had been hanging out with him all June. She had been worried when she found out that I used to date Finn, but it wasn't a big deal to me. I was over him, and Quinn seemed to like him a lot more than I did, anyway.

"Okay," she said. "Well, yesterday, I went to his house and his parents weren't home and I..." she lowered her voice. "I took his shirt off."

"Nice!" I whispered back. "Was it hot?"

"Super hot," she said with a nod.

"Have you guys...you know...done it yet?"

Quinn shook her head vigorously. "No, of course not," she said. Then she looked up at me. "Have you ever done it?"

I bit my lip and then nodded slowly. "Yeah," I admitted. "I have."

Quinn's eyes went wide. "Oh my God," she said. "With _who_? And when?"

"Cheer camp," I said. I hadn't gotten the chance to tell anyone yet, not even Santana, but now that I had an audience, I began to get more excited. "It was this hot mascot guy. His name was Aaron."

"Wow," Quinn breathed. "Was he the one that everyone was talking about? From the Sharks?"

"Yeah," I said, loving the way that Quinn was looking at me with admiration. Suddenly I felt more confident, and I said, "It wasn't a big deal."

"How did it happen?" she asked.

"It was when all of you went to make Coach Sylvester's Master Cleanse," I said. "I had been talking to him at dinner and then he snuck into the tent and we started making out. And then we just sorta...kept going." I grinned.

Quinn looked at me in shock. "Isn't that kinda...sudden?"

"That's what makes it fun, silly!" I said.

"Maybe." Quinn looked uncertain. "That's pretty...wow, that's pretty cool though. What did it feel like?"

"It felt really good," I admitted. "He did lots of things to me. Like, he _really _knew what he was doing."

"I don't want to know the specifics!" Quinn said. Then she bit her lip. "Sorry. I just...my mom says not to talk about these kinds of things."

I frowned. Who _wouldn't _want details? "That's okay," I said.

"I'm not being a very good Santana right now, am I?" she said, seeming genuinely sorry. I reached out of my sleeping bag and patted her head.

"Naw, you're a good Santana," I said. "Don't worry."

She scooted a little closer to me. "What other things do you and Santana do?"

"We watch T.V.," I said. "And get ice cream, and talk about people in our class. And..."

"And what?" Quinn was looking at me curiously. Her face was so close to mine, and her lips were so full and pink and suddenly I had to know what they felt like. Santana was the one who told me not to think about kissing Quinn and yet Santana had _also _told me that she would never kiss a girl, before we went to second base in the locker room. So why should I trust her? Quinn was still waiting for me to answer her, and I smiled.

"And we do this," I said, leaning towards her. I pressed my lips softly against hers and closed my eyes, breathing in her scent. We stayed like that for several seconds before she pulled away, looking at me with the same look she'd had when I told her about losing my virginity—times ten.

"You and Santana do _that_?" she whispered, and the way she said it made it sound so dirty that I felt suddenly uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "In, like, a friendly way." I knew that me and Santana's hookup had been a little more than friendly, but clearly, Quinn didn't want to know about it.

Quinn moved a little farther away from me. "That's weird," she said, still looking at me with wide eyes.

"Don't friends ever kiss?" I asked. I hadn't realized how badly Quinn would react. She shook her head vigorously, her hair flopping against her pillow.

"No," she said. "They don't. Especially not girl friends."

"Oh," I said. "I'm sorry." I looked down at the rug, feeling suddenly like I wanted to cry.

"Don't worry about it," Quinn said when she saw my face. "Just...don't do it again, okay?" She started to turn towards the T.V.

"With you or with Santana?" I asked.

"Both," she said. Then her back was to me and I knew that the conversation was over.

The show eventually ended and someone turned off the T.V. as the rest of the girls began to fall asleep. I wasn't tired, though, and I kept tossing and turning in my sleeping bag. I wanted to ask Quinn if she was still awake, but she had been completely still since she'd turned away and I was pretty sure she didn't want to talk, anyway. I wished I hadn't kissed her. Except that I had thought about what kissing her would be like for almost a whole year, so maybe it was worth it. Maybe.

Suddenly, I heard a soft tapping near the window. At first I couldn't tell if it was in my imagination or not, so I stayed still and tried to fall asleep. But the tapping got louder, and I realized that it was definitely coming from the window that was right above where I was sleeping. Feeling scared, I sat up in my sleeping bag and peered out into the darkness. A face was starting back at me, and I had to clap a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.

"Santana!" I hissed, even though I knew she couldn't hear me though the thick window. When she realized that I had seen her, she lifted her hand and quickly motioned for me to come outside. I scrambled out of my sleeping back as quietly as I could, not wanting to wake anyone else. Then I tiptoed through the maze of people, careful not to step on anyone, and crept down the hallway to the Fabray's front door. I unlocked it and quietly slipped out. Santana was standing on the doorstep. As soon as I had shut the door behind me, she lunged forward and pulled me into a hug so tight that I could barely breathe.

"Jesus, woman!" I said, feeling suddenly giddy as I hugged her back. "You're going to kill me."

"I just couldn't wait to see you," Santana said in my ear, still squeezing me. "I snuck out."

"I'm glad," I said. "I was going to stay up all night and wait for you but my mom wouldn't let me. How did you know I was here?"

"Your sister told me," Santana said. She finally let go and looked at me, grinning widely. "I've missed you _so _much."

"I've missed you too," I said, unable to stop smiling. "Seriously, I was going crazy without you."

"Come on, I want to catch up on everything," she said, reaching for my hand. Then she pulled back. "Unless...I mean, I guess we could talk tomorrow if you have to go back in there and sleep."

I shook my head. "I've never been more awake!" I said.

"Alright, perfect," Santana said, taking my hand. "I'm sure Quinn won't notice if you're gone for a little bit."

She led me over to the side of Quinn's house, where a large plant was growing up along a wooden frame. It kind of looked like a ladder, and Santana shook it a few times to see if it was sturdy. Then she began to climb up, motioning for me to follow. I grinned. Santana and I had been going up on the roof of her house since fourth grade, when we found that we could easily get there from her backyard tree. The roof was wherever we went when Santana didn't want to be disturbed by anyone. When we were up there, I always felt like we were the only two people in the world.

We found a spot and lay down, looking up at the stars. It was warm outside and I could hear crickets chirping in the distance. In the darkness, I reached for her hand. "So," I said, "tell me everything."

Santana did. She told me all the things that she hadn't had time to tell me on the phone, from the food she ate to hanging out with her cousins and sneaking beer from her uncle's secret stash. She talked about going hiking and swimming and getting hit on by street vendors. It sounded amazing, and I closed my eyes as she talked, picturing everything she was describing as though it were a movie on the inside of my eyelids. After a while, her voice trailed off. "Are you asleep?" she asked.

"No," I said, opening my eyes. "I was imagining what it would be like to have been there with you."

"That would have been perfect," she said, giving my hand a squeeze. "Honestly, that was the only thing missing from my vacation. You. One day, I'm going to take you there, I promise."

"Good," I murmured. After a small pause I said, "What about that guy?"

"Huh? Oh." Santana didn't sound as excited about him as she had on the phone. "Yeah he gave me his number. He said he'll hit me up if I ever come back."

"But you're not, like..."

"I don't do long distance," Santana said, reading my mind. "Besides, he wasn't all that great. Just a little summer fling."

I found myself smiling. "Good," I said. "I...uh, I wouldn't want you to be tied down."

"He was a good kisser, though," Santana reminisced. "Better than Puck. More experienced, probably."

"Yeah," I said.

"I was thinking..." Santana began slowly. Then she stopped.

"What?" I asked.

I heard her sigh. "About...what happened between us in May."

I let out a whoosh of air. "Oh," I said. I had been thinking about bringing it up for so long that I didn't even know what I wanted to say to her anymore. It felt good, though, to hear her talk about it. For a little while I had begun to wonder if I'd made the whole thing up in my head.

Santana shifted so that she was lying on her side, facing me. I looked at her and she looked down at the roof, tracing the grainy surface with her finger. She seemed shy for some reason. "Maybe I shouldn't have reacted the way I did," she said quietly.

"What do you mean?" I whispered, my heart thudding against my chest.

"I mean like maybe I shouldn't have run away like that. I think I made a bigger deal about it than I had to."

I was shocked. Santana rarely admitted to being dramatic even though—no offense to her—she usually was. "You don't have to worry," I told her. "I don't think you're a freak or anything."

She smiled gratefully at me. "You're so understanding, Britt," she said. "That's why I love—love being your friend." She stuttered and I wondered if she'd been about to say something else.

"I love being your friend too, Sanny bear," I said, reaching over and hitting her playfully on the shoulder. She smiled and snuggled closer to me. "So does that mean that we can kiss again?"

She looked a little nervous and a little bit excited at the same time. "I guess," she said, biting her lip. "I mean, practice makes perfect, right? Like, if we kiss more, we become more experienced kissers. It's a win-win."

"You're so smart," I said, moving even closer. She just smiled in response and tilted her face towards mine. Then her eyes started to close. I suddenly remembered all the things I wanted to tell her—how I'd lost my virginity at cheer camp, how I'd snuck into my first R rated movie, what had just happened with me and Quinn. But there would be time for that later. I leaned in and met her lips gently. It wasn't as urgent or as sexual as last time. She wrapped her arms around my waist and I cradled her cheeks in my palms as we kissed slowly and softly, parting only for seconds at a time so that we could take in shaky breaths. An owl hooted in the distance as we kissed and kissed and I couldn't remember ever feeling happier in my whole life.

Next thing I knew, it was sunrise.


	8. Mercedes

_October 2009_

Santana and I joined Glee Club, and even though it was under Sue Sylvester's orders, I was still really excited about it. We got to do lots of fun songs and Mr. Schuester, my Spanish teacher, was in charge of it. He let me help him make up some choreography, which was really fun. But Rachel was super bossy and wanted all the solos for herself, which made Santana and Quinn mad all the time. Still, it was fun. This week Rachel wanted all of us to sing a song for Quinn and Finn called "Keep Holding On" because we had all found out that Quinn was pregnant. When Santana explained to me how that had happened, I went up to Quinn and told her congratulations for having sex. She cried. I felt really bad about it later, and I wanted to do a really good job on the song to show Quinn that I was sorry. So I went to Santana's house, hoping she could help me practice. She didn't like to sing in Glee Club, but sometimes she sang at home when only I was listening, and I knew she had a really awesome voice. It was much better than mine.

I let myself in and walked into her living room. "Hey," she said when she saw me. She patted the seat on the couch next to her. "Sit down. I'm watching _Sweet Valley High_."

"Aren't we gonna practice?" I asked, going to sit next to her.

"We'll have time for that later," she said, putting her arms around me as soon as I sat down. She cuddled into my side and I glanced down at her. I realized that I could see easily down her shirt.

After a few minutes of watching the show, Santana looked up at me and noticed where my eyes were. "Perv!" she said, sitting up and looking at me with an evil glint in her eye. "Now you have to help me. As punishment."

I looked down apologetically. "What kind of punishment?"

"You have to help me practice again. I think Matt Rutherford wants to hook up this weekend."

"Practice...singing?" I asked hopefully. "Good. I need to do an extra good job because..."

"No," Santana interrupted. She leaned in and brushed her lips across my ear. "Practice _kissing_," she whispered.

I was about to tell her that she had gotten really good at kissing already—I knew from firsthand experience—and that I was the one who really needed to practice for the song we were doing on Friday. But before I could speak, she was tackling my lips with her own, grabbing my hair so that she could pull me closer. It didn't seem to be enough for her, because after a moment, she pushed me back so that I was lying down on the couch. Then she climbed on top of me and straddled me, using her tongue like a pro. She soon moved down to suck at my neck and I turned towards the T.V. "Careful," I said. "If you make that mark thing, my parents will see it."

"It's called a hickey, Britt," Santana said in a muffled voice. "And don't worry, I won't."

"Good," I said. I was loving the feeling of Santana on top of me, but we had been doing this a lot since that night on Quinn's roof and I was kind of getting tired of it. I mean, like, Santana was super hot and I definitely loved kissing her, but I wanted to do other things, too. "Do you want to go to get ice cream?" I asked.

Santana lifted her head and looked at me. "We have some in the fridge," she said. Then she leaned her head down and kissed me again, moaning as she rubbed her tongue against my bottom lip. I kissed her back for a tiny bit before gently nudging her away with my forehead.

"No but I want to go to the place downtown," I said. "So I can get my favorite kind."

"Chocolate with rainbow sprinkles?" Santana asked with a grin. I nodded. "Knew it." She sat on my thighs and grabbed each of my hands, pulling them around her back. "You know, it would be really hot if you rubbed your hands up and down my back while we kissed. Like, under my shirt."

I frowned. "Okay..." I said. "But are we going to get ice cream or not? Because now I'm all excited."

Santana sighed heavily. "Brittany, we're doing something else right now. We can't kiss at the ice cream parlor."

"Yeah we can, Finn and Quinn do it all the time," I said.

"And besides," Santana continued, "Coach doesn't want us to eat ice cream anymore. We can't get any bigger, imagine how embarrassing it would be to have to get a new uniform because we went up a size." She looked off into the distance and shuddered. "Did you know that making out burns calories?"

"Whatever," I said. I was going to have to ask for a new uniform anyway because I had gotten taller, and I really just wanted to eat my ice cream. "I just don't think you need to practice anymore, anyway," I mumbled.

Santana let go of my hands and looked at me. "What did you say?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

I bit my lip nervously. "I said that I don't think you need to practice kissing anymore, that's all I said. You just seem like you're good enough already and I don't know why you want to practice so much."

Santana looked at me for a long moment. Then she slid off my legs. "Fine," she said quietly, and I immediately felt sad. I hadn't meant to make her stop forever. I just wanted to do something else every once in a while. But Santana turned back towards the T.V., not smiling. "You can go if you want," she said. "I'm not hungry."

"Saaaan," I said, reaching a hand towards her. She refused to look at me, but I could see the corner of her mouth twitching as I reached out and touched the soft skin of her cheek. "You're face is warm," I said. "And kinda red."

"Whatever," Santana replied.

"Why are you so warm? Do you have a fever or something?"

"No, Britt," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Are you warm because we were kissing?"

"Shut up," Santana said. Her face got even redder and she refused to look at me.

"Okay." I paused for a moment. "Guess what?"

"What?" Santana's eyes darted over to look at me.

"I've been wanting to tell you something for a long but...I don't know, I didn't have a chance. _Please _don't get mad at me for not telling you earlier." I looked at her anxiously.

Santana turned towards me. "What is it?" she asked in interest. "I promise I won't get mad."

"Okay," I said, crossing my legs up on the couch and leaning towards Santana. I had been wanting to tell her for a long time, but Santana always seemed to get a little awkward when we talked about sex, and it felt weird to bring up some other guy when we were in the middle of making out. But I had Santana's attention now, so I figured I should just go for it. "When you were in Puerto Rico and we went to cheer camp, I..._did it_." I clapped my hands to my mouth right after I said it, waiting eagerly for Santana's reaction. She looked confused, but then, slowly, her eyes got wide.

"What?" she asked.

"I did _it_," I said. "You know..."

"Brittany..." Santana blinked several times. "Britt, are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious, silly," I said. I couldn't figure out why she wasn't getting all excited yet, asking me to describe it. "It was with one of the mascots. He was really hot."

"So you just, like...had _sex _with him?" Santana did not look happy. She actually looked sort of grossed out, kinda like Quinn did. I frowned.

"Yeah, I mean, he came into the tent and we started to hook up and then he wanted to do it so..." I shrugged. "He had one of those balloon things and all of that. It was safe."

"Condom," Santana said shortly. She stared down at the couch and began to tug at a loose string.

"Are you mad?" I asked carefully.

"Why would I be mad?" She wouldn't look up at me. She just kept a tight hold on the string.

"I don't know, you don't seem happy though. What is it?" She refused to make eye contact. "Come on, tell me. Are you mad that I lost it first? I mean, it's not like we could have lost it at the same time. Unless..." I thought hard. "Unless we lost it to each—"

"No," Santana said quickly. "It's not a race. It's just that...Britt, you barely knew this guy. Do you even remember his name?"

"Of course I do!" I said, feeling offended. I had expected Santana, of all people, to be proud of me. "I'm not a slut!"

Santana stood up from the couch and I noticed that her hands were shaking. "Really?" she said, her voice sounding high pitched and angry. "Because you're kind of acting like one!"

"Why don't you just man up and tell me what's actually wrong?" I said hotly. "You can't just yell at people for no reason, you know."

"You shouldn't have done it," Santana said, pacing. A loud noise came from the T.V. and she walked over to it, hitting the power button harder than she needed to. "You should have waited. You should have lost your virginity to someone who loves you."

"Then how come you're always telling me to hook up with people?" I asked. "You were hooking up with that guy in Puerto Rico and then with Puck for the rest of the summer! And now Matt Rutherford. How come it's okay for you to get action and not me? You _told _me to find someone to get it on with."

"I wasn't serious!" Santana shouted.

"How am I supposed to know when you're serious or not? I'm not a psycho! I can't read minds."

"It's a _psychic_, Brittany. God, you're so stupid. You let some guy come into your tent and—and...like, date rape you!" She actually was shaking now, walking back and forth in front of the coffee table with her hands in fists. I watched her, tears welling up inside me.

"Isn't rape the bad kind?" I asked in a small voice. Santana nodded, looking away. "But it was really good. I liked it a lot."

"It doesn't matter, Brittany," Santana said, sounding like she was about to cry. "He date raped you."

"Shut up!" I said. "He didn't. You know, maybe if you didn't think I was so _stupid_, you would realize that I can make my own decisions!"

"I never said you were stupid."

"You _just _called me stupid," I said, standing up. I was so mad that I felt like I wanted to hit her. "Just two seconds ago. You say I'm stupid so often that you don't even remember."

"It's not like that!" Santana pleaded. "I'm worried about you."

"Worry about yourself, you obviously need it more," I snapped, grabbing my purse from the floor and shoving my phone inside of it. "All you ever want to do anymore is make out, all the time. Maybe if you talked to me occasionally then you would know what was going on in my life. You only want me for my body!" I practically screamed at the end. Then I began to walk angrily towards the door. Santana just watched me with her mouth open.

"It's not—it's not like that at all. We don't make out like _that_. We just..."

I reached the door and pulled it open. "Be quiet," I said. "I don't need to hear you talk about how with two girls it's different, _again_." I walked out of the door and looked back at her. "IT'S NOT DIFFERENT!" I shouted. Then I slammed the door in her face.

I didn't start crying until I was two blocks away from Santana's house, but once I started, I couldn't stop. So instead of going home, I went towards the park. It was starting to get dark and there was nobody there, which was good because I sat down on a swing and cried so hard that if anyone saw me, they probably would have thought I was dying. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and sobbed, wondering why I was so sad. Santana and I had fought before, but this felt different. This time felt much worse.

I rocked back and forth on the swing until my sobs turned into soft crying. I wiped my face and I could feel that I was streaking it with dirt, but I didn't really care. It didn't matter how I looked right now. I had to make things right with Santana. As it got darker and darker, I began to get a little scared. But before I could get up to go home, I heard footsteps behind me. I froze in terror. "Brittany?" a voice said curiously.

I turned around and sighed in relief. It was Mercedes, from Glee Club. "Hi," I quietly.

"You look awful. What happened?" She sat down on the swing next to me and looked at me in concern. I tried to keep myself from crying, but my lip started to shake, and before I knew it, tears were running down my face again.

"I fought with Santana," I said miserably. "It was a bad one. I don't know if we'll ever work things out."

"Hey, don't cry," Mercedes said, reaching out and placing her hand on my back. "Look, I barely know you guys, but ever since I can remember the two of you have always been together. You're best friends! I'm sure you guys will work things out."

"But what if we don't?" I asked tearfully. "I feel like...I feel like I would die without her."

"You guys will," Mercedes said more firmly. "That girl be crazy but..." she shook her head, "she's got a soft spot when it comes to you. We all see it." She began to rub my back in small circles, like the way my mom did when I was little. "What was the fight about?"

I thought carefully. I didn't want to say anything that might upset Santana. So instead I told her about the guy at cheer camp, leaving out the part about how me and Santana had been kissing. Mercedes listened carefully the whole time, and unlike Quinn and Santana, she didn't look shocked or disgusted. She just nodded, rubbing my back the whole time. "I thought Santana would be excited for sure," I said. "But she wasn't." Then I told her what Santana had said about the R-word.

Mercedes sighed. "I don't honestly know, Brittany," she said. "Do you _feel_ like he took advantage of you?"

"No," I said. "I wanted to do it. But..."

"But what?" Mercedes asked.

My face crumpled. "I wish I hadn't!" I cried, putting my face in my hands. I heard Mercedes's swing creak as she moved it towards me, and in an instant her arms were around me.

"It's going to be alright," she whispered. "It's okay. I think I know why Santana is upset. It's all this Quinn pregnancy stuff that's making everyone feel edgy about sex. But it's gonna be okay. Because _you're _okay." She held me tightly while I took deep breaths, willing the tears to stop spilling out of my eyes. When I finally got it under control, I looked up.

"Thanks," I said. "You're really nice."

She smiled. "Anything to help a sister out," she said.

"I'm sorry that we told you to date Kurt," I said, remembering what we had done a few weeks ago. "That wasn't very nice of us."

She shrugged. "It's fine. I'm over it."

"How did you find me here?" I asked.

"I was walking home from Tina's house and I thought I heard a wounded animal over here," she said. "But it was just you." She smiled to let me know that she was teasing, and I smiled shakily back.

"Sorry," I said. "And thank you."

"It's not a problem," she said. "Besides, I don't mind chilling at the park. It's a nice night."

"Yeah," I said, looking up at the sky. It was a dark shade of blue, not quite as dark as night yet. "I love this time. The sky is so pretty."

Mercedes looked up too. "Yeah," she said. "It's twilight."

"Like the book?"

She shrugged. "I guess so." She swung her swing a little harder, coming right up against my shoulder before moving away to the other side. "It's so beautiful," she said.

"It is," I agreed, watching her move back and forth. Then I pushed myself to the side, catching her mid-swing. Our shoulders bumped roughly together and I held her in place as I looked at her.

"Hey!" she said with a laugh. "What are you doing?"

I just smiled. Our heads were practically touching, and it only took a tiny lean forward for me to reach around the chain of the swing and peck her lips. "Thanks," I whispered. Then I moved away, pushing my swing back and forth again. Mercedes continued to look at me confusedly.

"Um, you're welcome," she said. After a beat, she asked, "Do you always kiss people like that?"

"When their being nice and the sky is pretty, then...yeah," I said. I looked over at her, suddenly remembering the way Quinn had reacted when I had kissed her. "Was that okay?"

"I mean, I guess so," Mercedes said, shrugging. She looked at me curiously. "You're strange, you know that?"

I frowned. "Yeah. People tell me."

"But in a good way," she said, standing up from her swing. "Don't let the Stick Figure change any of that."

"Don't worry," I said. "I don't draw stick figures anymore. Not since seventh grade."

She laughed. "I meant Santana," she said. Then she looked down at me more seriously. "Are you doing okay?"

"Better," I said with a nod.

"Good. I don't want to leave nobody crying alone in the dark."

"I won't," I promised. "I'm just gonna swing a little more and then I'll leave."

"Alright," she said. "I'll see you at school." She started to walk away, but then she turned back. "You know, you might not wanna go around kissing people like that. They could get mad."

"Okay," I said with a nod.

"But I'm not mad. Just letting you know."

"'Kay," I said again. "Thanks Mercedes."

"You're welcome," she said. Then she left for real. I kicked off the ground and began to swing, feeling just a little bit better.


	9. Lauren

__**A/N: I had to change the rating on this story because of this chapter...hehehehe. Okay, so it's M now-if that bothers you, this would be a good time to peace out. In other news, this story has officially passed 100 reviews so THANK YOU. I love hearing from all of you. Thanks for reading and enjoy.**

* * *

><p><em>December 2009<em>

Mercedes was right. Santana and I got over our fight really quickly. She apologized for getting mad about the cheer camp guy, and eventually, she asked me to tell her all about it. We also started doing other things besides just having sexy times, like baking and playing Scrabble. I knew she was still having sexy times with Puck and sometimes Matt, too, and it made me a little bit sad. I tried hooking up with Mike Chang sometimes, and it was hot, but it wasn't the same.

In early December, we had our first snowfall. It started during Glee and we all stood on chairs to look out of the little windows at the top of the wall. Mr. Schue ended up letting us out early because we were so distracted, and we all ran outside to play in the snow. It was really cold, but I ran around catching snowflakes on my tongue anyway. Santana made a snowball and hit Rachel Berry in the face.

"Hey," I said to Santana when we were far enough away from everyone else that they couldn't hear. "Do you wanna come over tonight and make a fire and cuddle?"

"Aww, Britt, that sounds so cute," she said. "But I have plans. I'm sorry."

"Oh. Plans with who?"

"With Puck." Santana reached down and made another snowball. "His parents are out of town tonight and he wants me to come over and hang out." She was trying to sound casual, but I could see her hands shake just a tiny bit as she tried to pack the snow into a little ball.

"Is it for sexy times?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, I mean we'll probably have sex." She finally finished the snowball and aimed it at Finn. It missed.

"Wow," I said. "Your first time. Are you nervous?"

"Of course not," Santana said. She didn't look me in the eye, though. She was looking off into the distance, at Puck, who was sprinkling snow in Quinn's hair as she laughed and tried to push him away.

"I was a little nervous before my first time," I said.

"Well, I'm not. I mean, Puck and I have done other sex stuff. It's not like it'll be that weird."

"You have?" I was a little taken aback. I hadn't realized Santana had done anything besides make out. _We _hadn't done other stuff. I thought the thing we did in the locker room was as far as she'd ever gotten.

"Yeah, you know, like...hand jobs and stuff." She looked a little embarrassed for some reason, which was weird, because usually Santana liked to talk about sex like she knew everything. She called herself a 'sexpert.'

"Well," I said. "If you need anything, let me know."

"I won't need anything," she said. "But thanks."

We played in the snow a little bit longer, until our uniforms got all wet and freezing. Then Santana and I went inside to get our stuff from our lockers. "Rats," I said. "I left my Chemistry book in the choir room."

"I've gotta go," Santana said, closing her locker. She put her backpack over her shoulders and looked more nervous than ever. "So I guess I'll see you soon. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow and make a snowman or something."

"Okay," I said, grinning. "Have fun with Puck."

"I will," she said quietly. Then she looked quickly down the hallway. When she saw that nobody else was in it, she put her arms around my neck and started kissing me. It was kind of messy, not like her usual kisses when she was trying to be all slow and seductive, and when she pulled away I had to wipe all her spit off my mouth. "Bye," she said breathlessly.

"Bye," I said. I watched her for a little bit as she turned away and started walking down the hallway, and then I went in the other direction towards the choir room.

I went inside and found my book underneath one of the chairs in the middle row. As I walked over to pick it up, I suddenly heard whispering behind me. But when I turned around, no one was there. So I picked up the book and started putting it in my backpack. Then I heard the whispering again, louder.

"Is that the right one?"

"Yeah, that's the dumb one."

"Are you sure that's not the pregnant one?"

"Does she _look _like the pregnant one?"

"I don't know."

"I think _you're _the dumb one."

"Okay, who's there?" I called out nervously. "I can hear you and I have pepper spray. Please don't beat me up." I bit my lip nervously and hoped that they would leave because I had been lying about the pepper spray. Suddenly, two people popped out from behind the piano. One of them was a short boy with a huge, reddish afro. The other was a girl about twice as wide as him, with glasses. I gulped.

"Brittany, right?" the girl said.

"Don't kill me please," I begged. "I don't have any lunch money, I gave it to my cat already."

The girl and the boy looked at each other. "Told you she's the dumb one," the girl muttered. I frowned. She turned back to me. "I'm Lauren and this is JBI," she said. "Jacob Ben Israel. We're in the middle of a covert mission."

"A what?" I asked nervously.

"We want to see your boobs!" Jacob blurted out.

Lauren smacked him on the head. "No, that's not what we want. God, I am working with the most incompetent freak in the entire school, aren't I?"

Jacob shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. Don't stop paying me, please, I promised Puckerman that I would give him the ten dollars by Monday."

Lauren shook her head and looked at Jacob in disgust. Then she started to walk towards me. "Have a seat, Brittany," she said.

I sat down, wishing that I had brought Santana with me to get my book. She was really good at dealing with situations like this. She was the one who stopped all the bullies from teasing me in elementary school. I had never thought about what I would do if she wasn't there. "Are you going to throw me in the dumpster?" I asked. "Or steal my clothes? Please don't steal my clothes, it's snowing outside."

"Stop talking." Lauren paced back and forth in front of me, with her hands clasped behind her back. I felt like I was in a James Bond movie and I had just been captured. "I'm going to tell you a little story," she said. "It's about a girl, who used to be the most popular, most feared, most intimidating girl in the entire school. But then high school started, and suddenly all the blond, pretty girls—like yourself-"

"Thank you," I said.

"Became the most popular. Just because they looked like the girls that boys liked to have fantasies about. And being popular became about superficial things, like looks, instead of what it is supposed to be about—fear and the capacity for sexual dominance. Are we understanding each other?"

I shook my head. "Not really," I admitted.

"That's what I thought." Lauren shook her head sadly. "It doesn't matter, really. The end result is still the same. I hate to be doing this, but since you are a member of the social elite, I am forced to ask you for help."

"If I help you, will you set me free?"

"Without a scratch," Lauren promised.

I nodded. "Okay. I'll help you. What do you need?"

"I need respect," she said. "I need people to recognize that I'm at the top of the food chain around here. I want people to recognize my excellence."

"Do you want to be seen talking to me at lunch?" I asked. "Santana and I have done that for people before."

Lauren shook her head. "Don't offend me!" she said.

"Sorry," I replied in a small voice.

"I don't want to be seen as some sort of Cheerio worshipper whose entire life revolves around getting to sit at the cool table," she spat. "I want a different kind of recognition." She looked behind her at Jacob, who was standing nervously with his backpack in his hand. "Do you have the video camera?" she asked.

"It's in here," he replied, lifting his backpack.

"Good." She turned back to me. "I want us to make out. On camera. And then JBI will post it to YouTube, and everyone in the entire school will watch it and get turned on. Then I will be popular."

"So all I have to do is...make out with you?"

Lauren nodded. "Yeah. But just a little bit! I don't swing that way, and I know you have some freaky shit going on in the bedroom and that you don't discriminate when it comes to gender, but don't try anything funny. I'd like to keep my innocence."

"What will I get in return?" I asked.

"In return?" Lauren looked surprised. She glanced over at Jacob, who shrugged helplessly. "Uh...you get to tap this," she said, pointing to herself.

I shrugged. It wasn't a bad deal, and I _did _like to make out with as many people in the school as I could. Having a perfect record was important to me. "Okay," I said. "That sounds fair."

"Nice," Lauren said, looking relieved. "Okay, we're going to get this done right here, as quickly as possible." She came and sat down on the chair next to me. Jacob quickly dropped his backpack to the ground and began fumbling with the zipper. "You need to look like you're really into it," she told me. "But also like I'm the one in control. Do you think you can do it?"

"Of course," I said. "I'm an expert at this."

"That's what I thought," Lauren said. She looked over at Jacob, who had pulled the camera out of his bag. "Are you ready?"

"Ready," he said, holding up the camera. "And...we're rolling."

I barely had time to register what was happening before Lauren grabbed my neck and pulled me into her. Our lips crashed together and I started pushing my tongue into her mouth before I remembered that she wanted to be in control. So I let her tongue me instead, and I put my hands in her hair, trying to look as into it as I could. I fake-moaned like the girls in those special movies that Santana sometimes liked to watch with me. Doing this for the camera was kind of fun. I made a mental note to ask Santana if we could make our own video later.

After a few more seconds, Lauren pulled away and looked over at Jacob. He pressed a button on his camera. "Did you get it?" she asked. "Was it good?"

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen!" Jacob said breathlessly. He looked at me. "Do you have another one in you? For me?"

I looked at him apologetically. "Sorry. Santana told me that you have oral herpes." I shrugged. "Otherwise I'd go for it."

"I don't have oral herpes!" he protested.

"Santana said that's what everyone with oral herpes says."

"Back off, JBI, this is my thing," Lauren snapped. She looked at me and held out her hand. "Thank you," she said. "You've been a good business partner. I'll be sure to hit you up if we ever need your services again."

"No problem," I said, shaking her hand. "So...can I go now?"

"You're dismissed," Lauren said. I stood up gratefully and grabbed my backpack. Once I had walked out of the choir room, I ran down the hallway as fast as I could, scared that they would change their minds about beating me up. When I got outside, my mom was waiting for me in her car, and I jumped inside quickly.

"Hit the gas, woman!" I said. "There are bullies."

"Brittany, calm down," my mom told me, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot slowly. "Where is Santana?"

"She went home already. She has a date." I frowned. "I wish she didn't, I wanted her to come over."

My mom looked at me for a while, but didn't say anything. We went home and I played in the snow for a little bit, but it got cold really fast and it wasn't the same without Santana there with me. When it started to get dark, I went inside and watched T.V., trying not to think about how Santana was probably at Puck's house right now, doing something that I didn't really want her to be doing.

I changed into my pajamas and I must have accidentally fallen asleep, because soon I was waking up to the sound of my phone buzzing next to me and someone had turned off the T.V. I picked up my phone sleepily and looked at the text message.

**Santana: **I'm outside the back door. Let me in it's freezing.

I jumped up from my bed as fast as I could and tiptoed down the hallway, going straight for the back door. I peeked out of the little windows just to make sure some burglar hadn't gotten hold of Santana's phone or something, but sure enough, Santana was standing there, her arms crossed over her chest. I opened the door quietly and she slipped inside, her entire body shaking from the cold. Her eyes and nose were red.

"Come on," I whispered, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards my room. Once we were inside, I closed and locked the door as Santana jumped into my bed and burrowed under the covers.

"Jesus, it's so fucking cold out there," she said.

"What happened to your jacket?" I asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looking at her all rolled up. It was like looking at a Santana burrito.

"I left it at Puck's," she replied, and suddenly, her eyes began to fill up with tears. "Britt, I—I couldn't go through with it."

I lay down next to her and reached over to stroke her hair as she cried. "It's okay," I said. "It doesn't matter. There'll be another chance." I tried not to let her see that my heart was doing flip-flops because I was so happy that dirty Puck hadn't taken her virginity.

"I don't think there will be another chance," she said, sniffling. "He seemed pretty mad. And I think he's, like, in love with Quinn or something." She said the last part so quietly that I could barely hear her. But I knew what she meant. I had heard the rumors that Quinn's baby was actually Puck's. And even though she was still with Finn, a lot of people thought there was something going on between her and Puck on the side.

"Well you and Puck aren't officially together anymore, anyway," I reminded her. "I thought you said you didn't want a relationship."

"I know," Santana said. "And he doesn't want one with me, either. But he wants one with _her_..." She wiped her sleeve over her eyes and I moved my hand from her hair to her cheek.

"You're amazing," I said quietly. "Puck just doesn't see it, maybe."

"I feel like nobody does," Santana said. "Except you." She gave me a watery smile. "You're the greatest, Britt."

"Thanks," I said, brushing my thumb across a tear on her cheek. Then I leaned in and kissed her lightly. "If I were Puck, I would pick you over Quinn. For sure."

Santana laughed a little bit. She was so close to me that I could feel her body shake against mine. "You're crazy about Quinn," she said in disbelief. "I thought you thought she was the hottest girl you'd ever seen."

"Nope," I said, shaking my head. "Not the hottest."

"She told me that you kissed her." Santana's face became more serious. "She said you did it over the summer. And that you told her that you and I liked to kiss, too."

I bit my lip. "What did you say?"

"I denied it, of course," Santana said.

"I don't think she was going to tell anyone."

"It was just to be safe," Santana said. "It's better if we keep this a secret." She pulled back the covers and motioned for me to get inside. I crawled in next to her and she immediately wrapped her arm around my waist and pulled me close. "What was it like to kiss her?"

"Not as good as kissing you, not even close," I said. Her eyes lit up.

"Are you serious or are you just saying it to make me feel better?"

"I'm totally serious," I said. "She's super pretty and all that but I could never fall in love with her."

"Could you ever fall in love with me?" Santana whispered.

I closed the few inches between us and started to kiss her. I tried to make it slow and romantic, but Puck must have really done something to get her started because it wasn't long before we were making out, open mouthed and sloppy tongues and all that. I tangled my legs with hers and she rolled over so that she was on top of me. She straddled my legs and ground down on me while we kissed. I wrapped my arms around her waist and felt the covers slide off her back as she moved against me. The only time we had ever kissed lying down was on the couch, never on a bed, and something about the location made me feel like we were about to do something we had never done before. I slid my fingers under the hem of her shirt and then started to pull it up. When I reached her arms, she broke the kiss and sat up, pulling it off the rest of the way. I started openly at her black lacy bra and the flat expanse of stomach underneath.

"Did you dress up for Puck?" I asked, my voice breathless because of how hot she was.

"It's for you now," she said, sounding just as breathless as I was, and she reached down and started to kiss me again. After a moment, she began to slide her hands underneath my loose pajama shirt. She palmed my stomach and then slid all the way up to my boobs. She touched them lightly and I gasped in pleasure, just as she pulled away. "S-sorry," she said. "I didn't realize you weren't wearing anything underneath..."

"It's okay," I said. Then I blushed. "You can keep doing that. If you want."

"Okay," Santana said, sounding a little uncertain. She reached her hands back up again and cupped my breasts in her hands gently. I moaned and she smirked and leaned down to kiss me again, squeezing and massaging my chest as our tongues connected. I slid my hands up her bare back and found the clasp of her bra. I poked at it tentatively and when she didn't pull away, I undid it and began to slide it from her arms. She pulled away a tiny bit and allowed me to pull it all the way off.

"You're so freaking hot," I gasped. She smiled and looked down at me.

"Can I see you, too?"

"Definitely," I said, and I could barely get my shirt off fast enough. Once I did, we started kissing again, topless. She kept gasping and moaning and I felt myself getting all hot and wet. We were already going farther than we ever had and part of me wondered if I should stop, but the ache between my legs was overpowering and I had never wanted anything as badly as I wanted her. I grabbed her and flipped us over so that I was on top, and then I pushed the blankets out of the way and went straight for the button on her jeans. I slid them off and then ran my fingers across the crotch of her matching lacy panties. They were damp. I crawled back up so that I was leaning over her and looked into her dark eyes. "Do you want-"

"Yes," she interrupted. "Please. Yes." I reached down and began to slide my hand underneath the waistband. "Wait," she said. "Take off your clothes."

I sat back and stripped off my sweaty pajama pants and boring Hello Kitty underwear. Then I pulled hers off too so that we were both completely naked. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and I leaned in to kiss her as I began to run my fingers lightly across the inside of her thighs, getting closer and closer to her center. "You're the sexiest person ever," I whispered against her lips.

I expected her to smirk or laugh, to flip us over and take control like she always did. But she didn't. She gazed into my eyes and looked turned-on, scared, and helpless all at the same time. Her body was trembling underneath me. I could feel her muscles shaking and the way that her breath was coming out in uneven gasps. I had never seen her like this before. It was weird and also strangely beautiful. "I want you so bad," she said weakly.

I slid two of my fingers carefully inside her and she gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. "Does it hurt?" I asked.

"Yes, a little, don't stop though," she said through gritted teeth. I moved them very slowly so that she could get used to it, and when she began to squirm against my hand, I quickened my pace. "Britt," she moaned in a voice so sexy that my arousal became almost painful. I had to grind down on her thigh a little to relieve it and she reached her hand down and started rubbing me. "Holy shi—oh God, Brittany," she gasped, seeming to enjoy touching me almost as much as she enjoyed being touched.

I started to move faster, unable to stand the slow pace any longer. Soon I was practically slamming into her, but she didn't seem to mind, and she kept bucking her hips against mine and driving her own hand against my core. I felt myself nearing my orgasm and I worked my fingers harder, wanting to make her come at the same time as me. I looked up and saw her head tilted back, her mouth open, her eyes staring straight up at the ceiling. With one final push, we were both shuddering and cursing and moaning. I kept my fingers inside of her under she finally became still, and then I rolled to the side and wrapped her tightly in my arms.

I started to kiss her shoulder lazily, tasting sweat on her skin. "You're beautiful," I whispered, and her body started shaking underneath me. I looked up and realized that she was crying. "San," I said, my heart sinking. "San, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said, trying to wipe the tears away. But they kept coming and she eventually gave up, letting them stream down her cheeks as her chest heaved.

"Was that not okay?" I asked.

"It was more than okay," she said. "It was perfect." She turned and buried her face in my neck, sobbing. "I don't even know why I'm crying!" she choked out. "I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay, Sannie bear, it's okay." I rubbed her back gently and held her as she cried. I had seen her cry before, but never like this—it was always because she was angry and yelling. She had never just fallen apart in my arms. In a weird way, I wanted to cry too, but not because I was sad—because Santana was right, it was perfect. I thought about when she'd asked if I could fall in love with her.

I thought maybe I already had.


	10. Kurt

_May 2010_

It turned out that Santana really, really liked sex. We started to have it all the time, in the Cheerios locker room, in the back of her car, in the living room when our parents weren't home. Each time was more amazing than the last, and I thought that I could probably be happy doing it with her every day for the rest of my life. The only think that wasn't perfect about it, though, was the fact that she kept fooling around with guys, too. Over Christmas break, she finally did it with Puck. Then she did it with Matt and Azimio and she even took Finn's v-card. She didn't do it with as many people as I did, though. She always seemed to be a little nervous to go all the way.

I asked Santana if she minded that we always hooked up with so many people, but she said she didn't. In fact, she encouraged it. "No offense, Britt," she told me one day, "but I'm straight. And doing it with you is super awesome, but I gotta keep doing it with guys, too. To be, like, fully satisfied."

"I don't satisfy you?" I asked, my heart sinking. Santana frowned and immediately pulled me into her arms.

"No, I didn't mean it like that at all," she said soothingly. "You're amazing in bed. Like, the best. It's just that sometimes I want me some dick. You know what I mean, don't you?"

"Sure," I said. "I know what you mean." I _did_, really. I liked having sex with boys. But at some point, sex was just sex, and I wanted what me and Santana had to become more than that. I wanted the sex _and _the romance. But I was never quite brave enough to tell her.

Around May, when Puck started getting interested in Mercedes, Santana and I hit a bit of a dry patch. She was really worried about losing him, and we didn't hook up for a while because she was so focused on getting him back. It was kind of a bummer, but then I found something that made me unexpectedly forget about her for a little bit.

It started when Kurt sang this song in Glee Club.

I didn't really understand the song at all—the lyrics were confusing—but I couldn't stop staring at his overalls and his hat, and the way his voice sounded when he sang all low and gravelly. I had thought about kissing him before, since I thought it was sort of hot the way that his skin was so smooth like a girl's, but I had never tried anything with him because I heard that he was gay. But the way he was singing the song was so manly and sexy, and I thought maybe the rumors about him being gay had actually been wrong. I had heard lots of rumors before that turned out to be wrong, like the one about Rachel having a penis and Principal Figgins being an ax murderer. Maybe this rumor was no different than those ones.

After he sang the song, Mr. Schue said something about how he didn't like the performance, but all I could think about was how it had got me all hot and bothered and I really wanted to know what it would be like to run my hands along his soft chest. I didn't know for sure that he had a soft chest, but he had once given me moisturizing tips, so I thought it was a pretty safe bet that he took care of his body really well. He would probably smell nice and be really clean. The thought was so appealing that I got up from my seat and followed him as he began to leave the classroom. "Hey Kurt," I said, causing him to turn around. I smiled at him suggestively. "That song was hot."

"Oh." Kurt looked surprised as the corner of his lip turned up in a smile. "_Merci_."

"So you're pretty much the only guy in this school that I haven't made out with because I thought you were capital-G gay," I said quickly. "But now that you're not, having a perfect record would mean a lot to me. So...let me know if you want to tap this."

Kurt's eyes got all wide as I turned around. I could feel him watching me as I walked back to my seat, swinging my hips to show off my super-short skirt. There was no way he wasn't going to call me later. My Cheerios skirt had never failed me before.

Sure enough, I got a call from him later that night. He must have asked someone for my number, because I didn't have his in my phone. I was worried about answering a call from a strange number, ever since I saw _The Ring. _So I was really relieved when I heard Kurt's breezy voice on the other line. "Hey Brittany," he said. "I was wondering if you wanted to come over tomorrow night."

"To your house?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Is that a problem? We can uh...see a movie, if you'd like. Or I can take you to Breadsticks."

"Your house is fine," I said. I preferred his house, actually, because whenever I went to someone's house, we usually ended up getting it on. "What time do you want me to come over?"

"Maybe around eight or something?" he suggested. "We can watch some T.V. and...maybe do some stuff, if you know what I mean." He laughed, but it sounded a little weird. It was low, just like his voice had sounded when he sang that song.

"That sounds great, I love doing stuff," I said. "I can't wait."

"Me neither," Kurt replied. "See you tomorrow."

Santana's brother was taking her to a frat party the same night, and she was sad I couldn't go with her. She came over to my house beforehand so that we could help each other get ready. "You're really ditching me to hook up with a homo?" she asked. "When there will be tons of steamy college guys at this party?"

"Kurt _is _steamy," I said. "And he's not gay anymore, either. He definitely wants to do it with me."

"Whatever," Santana said. "It's not like you can just stop being gay."

I shrugged. "He says he did. Should I wear jeans or a skirt."

"Skirt, definitely," Santana said. "You can show off your sexy legs."

"Alright," I said, pulling a skirt out of my closet. I stripped down to my underwear, but before I could put on my new outfit, Santana was suddenly behind me, her hands resting on my hips and her front pressing into my back. She leaned down and scraped her teeth across my shoulder.

"Sure you don't wanna come with me?" she asked quietly. "Cancel with Kurt, I'm sure he'll understand."

Chills went up and down my spine. I wanted so badly to go with her, or better yet, to drag her right over to my bed and stay there with her all night. But I knew I couldn't. Thinking about her with other guys made me feel sad, and the only way I could feel better about it was if I didn't know about it. She would go to her party and I would go off with Kurt, and that way, neither of us would have to think about what the other one was doing. "I'm sorry San," I said. "I made a commitment to Kurt. Next time, I promise."

"Okay. I understand." Santana pulled away from me and went across the room, grabbing a pair of tight skinny jeans off the bed. "Should I wear these?"

"Definitely," I said. "You look hot."

After we finished getting ready, Santana left and I went over to Kurt's house. I knocked on the door and he came and opened it right away, wearing the same outfit that he had on the day before at school. I shivered in excitement. "Hi Brittany," he said. "Come on in." I went inside and he closed the door behind me. Then he led me down the hall. "This way," he said. "My room is in the basement." He opened a door to reveal a staircase and motioned towards it with his hand. "After you."

I walked down the staircase. "Your room is really nice," I said. "In my basement, all we have is a ghoul. And a washer and dryer."

"That's too bad," Kurt said. I heard the click of the door closing, and a moment later, he was right behind me on the stairs. "Do you want to go sit on the couch or something?"

"Sure," I said, heading over to the couch. I expected Kurt to turn on a movie or some music or something, but instead he came and sat down next to me.

"So...how are you?" he asked. His hands kept playing nervously with the loops on his overalls.

"I'm fine," I said.

"Good," Kurt nodded. "Is anything new at school?"

"Well...Santana and Mercedes got into a fight in Glee Club," I said. "That was pretty cool."

Kurt nodded. "Yeah...I was there, remember?"

I chuckled. "Oh yeah. Whoops."

It got awkwardly quiet after that. I looked around the room at all of Kurt's decorations. They were kind of girly, but nice, too. "I'm glad you agreed to come over," Kurt said after a while.

"Yeah, no problem," I said. Then, because he seemed worried, I said, "This is a fun date."

Kurt laughed. "Don't lie," he said. "We haven't even done anything yet. I know this is boring, I apologize. I'm sort of new to all of this."

"That's okay, I remember what my first date was like," I said. "I can help you out, if you want."

"That would be excellent," Kurt said.

"Alright." I paused. "So do you want to do something else or should we just get straight to the kissing?"

Kurt gulped. "Kissing...would be good, I think," he said. His voice sounded shaky. I brought my legs up onto the couch and smiled.

"Okay," I said. "Lie back." Kurt lay down on the couch with his head resting against the armrest. He brought his legs up next to me, and I looked at him, lying there in his hat and overalls with a sort of terrified expression on his face. "You okay?" I asked.

"Perfectly fine," Kurt replied, nodding.

"Okay, cool." I shifted so that I was leaning over him, resting myself partly against his chest. Then I started to kiss him.

It was nice. His lips were soft and nice and he didn't try to put his tongue in my mouth or anything. We kissed for a while, nice and slow, and every time I tried to move my hand to feel him up, he pushed it away. "Your lip gloss tastes like root beer," he whispered between kisses. "It's weird." As my lips grazed against his, he said, "Can I ask you something?" I pulled away and he looked at me anxiously. "...what do boys' lips taste like?"

I thought for a moment. "Usually dip. Sometimes they taste like burgers. Or my armpits. Kissing my armpits is a really big turn on for me," I told him, hoping maybe he would get the message and offer to try it. He smiled a little but didn't say anything, so I started kissing him again. I was so focused that I didn't even hear the opening of the door or the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

"Whoa." A voice came from across the room and Kurt and I broke apart and looked up. There was a strange man standing there, wearing the same hat as Kurt. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked as Kurt and I sat up. I wiped my mouth and looked down at my hands.

"You sure are," Kurt said in that sexy low voice that he'd been using earlier that day. He put his arm around my shoulders. The man walked towards us.

"Okay, I'm confused," he said. "I came home to find this note on your doorknob: Do not enter under any circumstances, I'm making out with a girl." He held the note up to show us and shrugged. "I just thought it was the start of one of your murder mystery dinners."

I squinted my eyes in confusion. Was all of this a set up? Was I about to be killed? "Dad, I really need you to respect my privacy, Brittany and I were just having, uh, sexual relations," Kurt said. Oh, so this guy was Kurt's dad. That explained the hat. I smiled and lifted my hand in a wave.

"Hi," his dad said, looking extremely confused. He cocked his head to one side and looked at Kurt, and Kurt stood up from the couch. He walked past the coffee table and he and his dad turned around so they weren't facing me. I sat quietly, wondering what they were saying. They seemed to be talking about me. At one point, his dad turned back and looked at me. I twisted my fingers in my lap, wishing I was at Santana's house where her parents knew who I was and didn't have secret conversations in front of me. I felt pretty weird. Finally, they finished talking, and his dad turned back towards me. "Nice to meet you," he said with a much friendlier smile than before. I smiled back and waved again. "You kids be careful, alright? And you gotta respect her," he said to Kurt. "If things get serious...use protection." He walked back up the stairs and Kurt turned to me with his hands in his pockets, smiling.

"Does he mean, like, a burglar alarm?" I asked. Kurt's smile faltered. I shrugged and patted the seat of the couch beside me. "Come here," I said.

Kurt came and sat down next to me, but he didn't make any move to start kissing me again. I reached down and slipped my heels off my feet. I pulled my legs up so that I was sitting cross legged on the couch, facing him. Then I started slowly pulling my shirt up. Kurt swallowed hard. "Brittany..." he began.

I smiled suggestively and then pulled it all the way off so that I was only wearing my skirt and a lacy black bra. Then I pressed lightly on his shoulder so that he was lying down on the couch again, and I began to climb over him. I reached forward and grabbed on to the straps of his overalls. "You can put your arms around me," I whispered as I leaned in to kiss him. "It's okay."

I felt Kurt's hands brush against my back softly and I started to unbutton his overalls, never breaking the kiss. I pulled the top of his overalls down and ran my hands against his chest over his flannel shirt. One of Kurt's fingers touched the strap of my bra. Then he pulled back suddenly. "I'm sorry, I can't," he said, sitting up so quickly that I fell back onto the couch.

"Why?" I asked, pouting. Was I not good enough for him or something?

"It has nothing to do with you," he said as if he were reading my mind. "I just can't do it, I'm sorry." He shook his head quickly and started to fix his overalls. "You should put on your shirt," he said quietly.

I picked my shirt up off the floor and started to pull it over my head. "Is it because you have a crush on Finn?" I asked. That's what Santana had told me. Kurt shook his head quickly.

"No Brittany, I'm straight now, remember?"

"But that doesn't mean you can't have sex with boys, does it?" I asked.

"That's exactly what it means." Kurt looked at me strangely. "Do you know what 'straight' means?"

"Yes, I do," I said, offended. "It means girls who like boys and boys who like girls. I'm not stupid."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," Kurt said. "Yes, you're right."

"But sometimes girls have sex with girls when they're still straight, right?" I asked, thinking of Santana and what she had told me. "It's just that I...know a girl...who likes to have sex with girls but she says she's straight."

"Well, first of all, it's not just about the sex," Kurt said. "And it's complicated." He looked at me. "Is this...about you?" he asked. "I'm sorry if that's too personal. It's just that I'm friends with Rachel and she mentioned that the two of you went out once in eighth grade."

"Yeah, we did," I said, smiling at the memory. "It was nice."

"If you want to identify as straight, that's completely okay," Kurt said. "It's just a preference, really. I'm sorry that I was so blunt about it earlier."

"I'm not, though," I said. "Not straight, I mean. I know that."

"Oh," Kurt said in surprise. "Okay, I didn't know that. Well...cool. Do you mind still being my girlfriend, though?"

"Of course not," I said. "I would love to be your girlfriend."

"Great." Kurt smiled. "You're okay, Brittany, you know that?"

"Sure," I said. "I know."

"Let's turn on a movie or something. You can pick. I have a lot of Disney classics."

I clapped my hands together. "Yes!" I said. "Disney is my favorite."

We watched _The Little Mermaid _and then Kurt walked me to my car. I kissed him a little bit when we were standing outside, but I don't know if he liked it much because he pulled away kind of fast. But then he gave me a big hug and said that he would see me at school, so I felt like the night had been pretty successful. I got into my car and when Kurt went inside his house, I pulled out my phone to check my text messages. There was one from Santana.

**Santana:** Brttanyyyy mah gurrrl, hows yr date wit krut goin?

**Santana: **don't fal in love with him plzzzz

**Santana: **ur mine

My heart started pounding. _Are you drunk? _I texted back. After a few more seconds, she replied.

**Santana: **Drunk on u babeee

I thought about my conversation with Kurt. _Santana, are you straight_? I typed. Then I quickly hit send before I could change my mind. After that, I was too anxious to drive, so I stayed parked in front of Kurt's house waiting for her to answer.

**Santana: **mayb, mayb not

**Santana: **but I wanna fuck u so hrd l8er

I dropped my phone onto my passenger seat and turned on my car. Trying to get an answer out of Santana was like trying to do a crossword puzzle, where none of the answers made sense with each other. I just wanted her to explain to me how she really felt, just once. My phone buzzed with a call as I was driving, but I ignored it. When I got home, I picked it up and looked at the screen. One missed call from Santana, and a voicemail. My hand that was holding the phone started to shake. Maybe she was going to give me a real answer to my question. Maybe she just hadn't wanted to text it.

"_Hey B_," Santana's slurred, hurried voice sounded in my ear, barely audible over pounding music and voices in the background. "_There's this guy here who will—Stop it! Hahahaha—he'll totally do us at the same time if you come over here now. He's sooo hot, he wants to watch us kiss. Call me. Please. I'M SO DRUNK_." There was the sound of laughter, Santana's and another guy's, and then the line went dead. I held the phone in my hand and stared at it for a long time. Santana and I had been making out for boys at parties since the school year had started. But for some reason, her offer made me feel sick to my stomach. _Sorry, I can't_, I started to type back. Then I erased it. _Don't hook up with anyone—_I stopped and erased that too. _Come home_...no.

_Goodnight Santana_, I wrote. Then I hit 'Send' and started to cry.


	11. Artie

_October 2010_

I never got the courage to tell Santana how I felt about her, but after the school year ended, she pretty much stopped hooking up with other guys. Puck was in love with Quinn and Matt transferred, so she would have had to work harder to find someone new. She seemed content to be with only me, though. We hung out almost every day for the entire summer, and it was almost like we were dating. In fact, we pretty much _were_ dating, and I wanted to tell her, but I was worried about scaring her away. The one thing that was missing was that we didn't get to talk about our feelings, which was sad because I kind of wanted to.

When Mr. Schue gave us an assignment to do a duet, I had an idea. Santana and I were obviously going to be duet partners. We were each other's best friends in Glee and there was no way she would want to do one with someone else. So I decided that maybe I should pick a song that expressed how I felt about her. That way I could tell her without actually having to tell her. It was perfect.

I went to Google and searched for 'good love songs.' Then, because there were so many, I typed in 'good love songs to sing to a girl.' But a lot of the songs were by guys, and I wanted to find a song that was by a girl so that we would be able to sing it without having to make it higher—Santana called it 'changing the key,' which didn't make any sense because songs didn't have locks. Anyway, I typed in 'good love songs to sing with a girl if you're a girl too.' There were actually a lot of songs written by girls for other girls. I was surprised. I didn't know that there were a lot of girls out there with feelings just like mine.

I picked out a song and I invited Santana over one day after school to ask her about it. As soon as we got into my room, she threw me onto the bed and started kissing me. "I love your sweet lady kisses," I said as she moved her lips down to my neck.

"Mhm," she said. "It's a nice break from all that scissoring." She smirked and then began to nuzzle into my neck again. I ran my arms along her back and took a deep breath.

"We should do a duet together," I said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "We should sing Melissa Etheridge's 'Come to My Window'." It was a song that I had found online, and when I listened to it, it sounded pretty cool. Apparently Melissa Etheridge liked girls, too. I could already imagine Santana's raspy voice singing it to me in front of the entire Glee Club, and it made my stomach do little flips.

Santana pulled away for a moment to look at me. "Okay, first of all, there's a lot of talking going on, and I wants to get my mack on."

My heart sank. "Well...I don't know, I just..."

"Second of all," she climbed off me and sat up so that her legs were hanging off the side of my bed, "I'm not making out with you because I'm in love with you and want to sing about making lady babies." She started to run her hands through her hair, pulling it back up into a ponytail, a sure sign that our make out session was over. "I'm only here because Puck's been in the slammer for about twelve hours now and I'm like a lizard. I need something warm beneath me or I can't digest my food."

I rested my head on my hand and watched her. "But who are you gonna sing a duet with?" I asked. My heart felt like it was breaking. Santana finished tightening her ponytail and shrugged.

"I don't know, maybe Wheezy. She's annoying as hell but you have to admit, she's got a good voice."

"Mercedes is nice," I said quietly.

"Sure, whatever." Santana walked over to my desk and pulled her Cheerios jacket off the chair. "I've gotta go, I just remembered that my mom wants me home early tonight so I can help her with dinner."

"You just got here," I said, pouting. "And who am I supposed to sing a duet with if you won't do one with me?"

Santana just shrugged. "I don't know. Find someone. That's not really my problem." She grabbed her backpack and put it over her shoulder. "Bye Britt," she said. Then she left my room without even waiting for me to say goodbye back.

I fell flat on my face and lay there for a while, letting my tears soak into the mattress. Everything had gone completely wrong. I had been worried that Santana wouldn't get the message behind my song, but I never in a million years thought she wouldn't even want to do a duet in the first place. We were supposed to be best friends. Why was she acting like this? I leaned over and grabbed my phone from the nightstand and dialed Quinn's number.

"_Hello?_"

"Hey," I said, trying to sound like I hadn't just been crying. "It's Brittany."

"_I know_," Quinn replied. "_Caller ID. What's up?_"

"Do you want to do a duet with me for Glee Club?" I asked.

There was a pause. "_Actually, I'm not sure I'm gonna do this assignment._" She sighed. "_I have a ton of work right now and Puck's in juvie and I've been trying to see him. Everything is just really complicated..._" She trailed off. "_What about Santana, can't you do a duet with her?_"

"She doesn't want to," I said, sniffling. "I asked her today and I had a song picked out and everything and she just sort of...started acting all weird."

"_Britt_," Quinn said gently. "_I know you really like Santana and I know that she likes you too, but have you ever thought that maybe she doesn't like you like that?_"

My eyes got wide. "Why would I care if she likes me like _that_?" I asked quickly.

I heard Quinn laugh. "_No offense, but it's obvious how you feel about her. To me, anyway._"

"Well." I looked at my bed miserably. "It's not obvious to her."

"_Look_," Quinn said, her tone becoming serious again."_You're a beautiful girl, Brittany. There's tons of people out there, guys, girls, whoever, who would kill to be able to date you. You just have to look around_."

My heart lifted slightly. It felt good to hear compliments from Quinn. "Really?" I asked. "You think?"

"_I don't just think, I know for a fact_," she said. "_People probably get intimidated by you but just...go up and ask someone. Anyone would be insane not to say yes._"

"Santana didn't say yes," I couldn't help but point out.

"_Santana _is _insane_," Quinn said. "_Look, I gotta go, my mom is calling me. But I'm serious, okay? You're hot_."

I giggled. "Thanks Quinnie," I said. "You're the best."

After talking to Quinn, I felt a little bit better. Surprisingly, I had never really thought about being in a relationship with someone before, besides Santana of course. Some of the guys who I had hooked up with were really sweet, but I hadn't ever bothered to follow up. Quinn was right—I should just go up and try asking someone out on a real date for a change. And if I started with someone in Glee Club, I could get a boyfriend and a duet partner all in one.

The next day, I went to rehearsal with the intention of finding myself a new man. I realized that almost everyone was unavailable. Finn was dating Rachel, Mike was dating Tina, and the new guy kept staring at Quinn whenever he thought she wasn't looking. The only person who I could think of who might date me was Artie, and I had never really talked to him before.

After Glee ended, I followed him to his locker. "Hi," I said as he started pulling books out of his locker. "I just want you to know that I'm really into you."

He looked around in surprise, like he thought I might be talking to someone else. When he couldn't find anyone, he looked back at me. "Okay..." he said slowly. "I'm sorry, I'm just a little confused. You've never even made eye contact with me."

"I know. For a while I thought you were a robot," I admitted.

He raised his eyebrows. "A robot?"

"A cute one, though," I said quickly. "I just really want to date you, I think about it _all _the time."

"You do?"

"Of course," I said. "I want you to be my boyfriend so I can take rides on your chair and push you to class, and we can go down the special ramps together. It would be so romantic."

"So let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You want to be my girlfriend because you like the idea of wheeling me around?"

I stepped closer to him and looked at him flirtatiously. "I just really wanna get you in a stroller," I said.

Artie seemed to think about it for a long time. I rested my hand on my hip and looked at him, trying to make my sexiest face. "Alright," Artie said. "...I guess I could maybe think about it."

"Okay," I said. I stood there smiling for a while as he watched me awkwardly.

"Uh...do you wanna push me to class?" he asked.

I clapped my hands together. "Yes!" I said. "Thank you." I walked around to the back of his chair and grabbed onto the little poles at the top.

"I have math in room 402," he said.

"Okay," I replied, pushing him forward. When we reached the intersection at the hall, I noticed Santana standing by her locker. She turned and began to walk towards me, frowning as I turned the corner. "You're going to be an amazing boyfriend, I can already tell," I told Artie, hoping Santana would overhear.

"So I get to tell everybody that we're dating?" Artie said.

"Yes," I replied. "And I get a duet partner." I could feel Santana's eyes on me and I turned around. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked angry as I pointed to both of my boobs and wagged my finger at her.

She didn't talk to me until the end of the day, when I was waiting by the parking lot to meet Artie so we could practice at my house. "Hey," she said. "What the hell have you been doing, pushing that freak around all day like you're his live-in nurse or something?"

"Um, he's hot," I said, acting like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Santana's eyebrows raised so high I thought they were going to fall off the top of her head.

"What are you talking about, B, you've never even said two words to him. He's a freak!" Her eyes were narrow and angry, but I forced myself not to be afraid.

"I like him," I said. "He's going to be my new boyfriend and my duet partner. So...whatever." Behind Santana, I could see Artie wheeling his way down the ramp. I waved him over. Santana looked from me to him.

"Is he going home with you?" she asked in disgust.

"Yes," I said. "We're going to practice."

"Ugh," Santana groaned. "This entire situation makes no sense. Can you at least come over to my house when you're done?"

"I'm not fooling around with you anymore, Santana," I said. "I have a boyfriend now."

Santana frowned. "This is bullshit!" she said. "You're supposed to..."

"Supposed to what?" I challenged, feeling angry. "Supposed to be with you?"

"No," Santana said quickly. "Not be _with _me like that, I just mean that we're supposed to be best friends. And you're supposed to date hot, popular guys, not...cripples."

"I like Artie," I said firmly as he wheeled up to us. "And my mom's here, so we're going to go now." I grabbed on to the back of Artie's chair as Santana gave him a death glare. He looked up at me nervously and I began to wheel him away.

"I'm going to fix this!" Santana called after me as I left. I just shook my head and ignored her.

"What was that all about?" Artie asked as I pulled open the door for him. I offered to help lift him out of his chair, but he shook his head and reached forward to grab the edge of the seat. Then he hoisted himself out of the chair and into the backseat of the car in one motion.

"Wow," I said. "That's amazing."

"Thanks," Artie replied as my mom came around the car to help me fold up the wheelchair. "Seriously, though, is Santana mad at you or something? Or at me?"

My mom looked up. "Santana?" she asked. "Did you two have another fight?"

I frowned. I didn't like to talk to my mom about my life, but she somehow knew that Santana and I had been fighting recently. "It's fine," I muttered, turning around and getting into the front seat of the car. My mom got into the driver's seat and kept looking at me like she wanted to ask about the fight. Eventually, though, she looked at Artie and decided not to talk to me about Santana while he was with us.

"Hi, Artie," she said instead. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Pierce," Artie said politely. My mom started asking him questions that she usually asks people who she's just met, and I started to zone out as he talked about his family and glee club. I just kept thinking about Santana and how she seemed mad about me and Artie. That was good—but was she jealous mad or just mad? I really hoped she was jealous.

We got to my house and Artie and I went to my room right away. I wasn't sure what song I wanted to sing with him, because it didn't seem right to sing the song I wanted to sing with Santana, even if it would make her mad. "How about you give me some singing lessons?" I asked. "You're much better than me. I mean, I _did _get to sing like Britney Spears, but that was only one time."

"Alright," Artie said. "Sure. I can teach you a few things." He looked around the room. "Do you have a piano or guitar or something, so I can get the pitches?"

"I have a little keyboard!" I exclaimed. I knelt down and reached under my bed to get it. Artie smiled.

"Perfect," he said. I pulled out my Barbie keyboard that I got for my birthday when I was ten. Artie's smile faltered a little bit, but then he shrugged. "Okay, that'll work. Why don't we try some runs?" I handed him the piano and he began to play a few notes. "We'll start around middle C I guess, and work our way up."

Artie played some notes and sang things for me so that I could copy them. His voice was nice, but it just wasn't the same as when Santana sang for me. I missed her voice and it was hard to focus when Artie was telling me to do things that I didn't really understand. I think Artie was starting to get frustrated too, because suddenly he said, "I'm sorry, I can't do this."

I looked at him, confused, as he set down the piano. "Uh, why can't you do this?"

"I thought I was over somebody but...I think I still have feelings for them." He looked up at me apologetically. My heart started to sink. This couldn't be happening. I didn't think I could handle being rejected by Santana _and _Artie.

"The Clintons?" I asked hopefully. Maybe Artie wasn't talking about another girl at all. But he shook his head.

"No," he said. "Tina." He looked down sadly and turned his chair around, wheeling himself towards the door.

"Wait," I said. "Don't leave." Artie stopped but didn't turn around. "You want to get over Tina, right?" I asked, walking towards him. I bent down and put my lips by his ear. "Let me help you."

As I picked him up and carried him to my bed, I could hear the faint sounds of my phone vibrating from inside my bag. I ignored it. I was sure it was Santana, because nobody else ever called me, but the truth was that I really didn't think I could handle talking to her right now. She probably though I was just being obnoxious by refusing to hook up with her again, but the truth was that I didn't think I could handle it. I had feelings for her. I knew that now. And the only way I could ever fix the problem was if I somehow made those feelings happen for Artie instead.

For a virgin, he wasn't all that bad. But I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming Santana's name.


	12. Tina

_February 2011_

I liked dating Artie. He was sweet and smart and my parents liked him. He had a beautiful voice and he liked to sing songs to me in Glee Club. At first, my Cheerio friends thought he was weird, but once I introduced him, they couldn't help but laugh at his jokes and his fake-gangster voice that he liked to use sometimes. He and I alternated hanging out with my friends and hanging out with his, so I got to know Mike and Tina better. They were really nice. At first it was awkward because me and Mike used to have a thing, and so did Tina and Artie, and I'm not sure if she was happy to see him with a new girl. But the awkwardness went away quickly when we all realized that nobody wanted to steal anybody away, and then I got to make two awesome new friends. I was happy. Artie made me happy.

The only thing that didn't make me happy, though, was that Santana would always avoid me whenever I was with Artie. And whenever we hung out alone, she always seemed kind of mad and distant, like she would rather be somewhere else. I couldn't even imagine where she would rather be, since Puck had given up on her and Quinn was hanging out with Sam all the time. But Santana was always texting _someone _whenever we were together, and she never accepted my invitation to stay for dinner or spend the night. It was slowly breaking my heart to see her drifting away from me, because I still cared about her so much, even though I was mad that she was always glaring at Artie and threatening to push him off a cliff.

The day before Valentine's Day, Santana got into a big fight with everyone in the Glee Club. It all started when Finn wanted to start a kissing booth to raise money for us. Personally, I thought the idea sounded kind of gross. "You know, I've kissed Finn, and can I just say, not worth a buck," Santana said. I thought about my kisses with Finn in eighth grade. Yeah, I probably wouldn't pay for those either. "I would, however," Santana continued, "pay a hundred dollars to jiggle one of his man-boobs."

I had to put my hands over my mouth to keep from laughing. But nobody else thought it was funny. "Do you ever get tired of tearing other people down?" Finn asked Santana, looking hurt.

"No, not really," Santana replied.

"Because you always just seem to be meddling in everybody else's business," he said.

Artie looked at me and I looked back at him. "It's true," he whispered. I shook my head. Okay, maybe she meddled in our relationship a little bit. But she was my best friend. It was allowed.

"Don't say anything," I whispered back. "She doesn't mean to do bad things. She's actually nice."

"Please, you guys love me," Santana said. "I keep it real, and I'm hilarious."

"Actually, you're just a bitch," Lauren said loudly.

A lot of people gasped. "Whoa, whoa," Mr. Schue said, holding up his hands. My mouth fell open in shock. I wanted to say something to defend Santana, but I felt like my voice wasn't working very well. Sure, Santana might have said some mean things in the past, but to call her a bitch to her face? Even Santana would never call someone a bitch to their face! Unless they really, _really _deserved it.

"Uncalled for," Artie said quietly. I smiled gratefully at him. But then my smile went away as people started yelling at Santana for all the things she had said to them. I looked at Santana worriedly. She seemed upset. I knew she hadn't meant to insult anybody—everything she had said was just a joke! But apparently, nobody else thought it was funny.

"The truth is, Santana, you can dish it out but you can't take it," Rachel said angrily. "Okay maybe you're right, maybe I am destined to play the title role in the Broadway musical version of _Willow_, but the only job you're gonna have is working on a pole!"

It got really quiet after that. Then Santana said "Fine," and stood up, picking up her stuff. She started to walk towards the door and I made to get out of my seat. Artie held me back.

"Santana..." Mr. Schue said, but she ignored him. I pried Artie's fingers off my arm.

"Let me go," I said, hurrying out of the room. "Santana!" I called out as I ran through the doorway. Then I almost tripped on her. She was sitting right outside the room, staring sadly at the floor. She took one look at me and burst into tears. "Oh Santana," I said, dropping to my knees next to her. "Don't cry."

Santana just shook her head as tears streamed down her face. "I try to ignore them, but it's hard when they're all yelling at once," she cried. I nodded and began running my fingers through her hair and across her shoulder, trying to comfort her. I realized that it was the most physical contact we'd had since I started dating Artie.

"They just don't understand," I said. "You're not a mean person. You're just kidding around."

Santana nodded. "I know!" she sobbed. The bell rang and people began filing out of class. The rest of the Glee Club barely looked at her as they walked by. Only Artie paused, and that was mostly for me. _Go away_, I mouthed, looking at him apologetically. He nodded and began to wheel to his next class. "I'm not trying to be a bitch," Santana continued, ignoring him. "I just—I..." Her voice cut off as she took in one gasping breath after the next.

"Maybe try rocking back and forth," I suggested. "People do that in movies."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Because I just try to be really, really honest with people when I think that they suck! You know?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding earnestly.

"No one gets it," she cried.

"Santana, please don't listen to them," I begged. "I think you're amazing."

"Do you?" she asked tearfully. "Or are you just saying that now because I'm crying and because Artie's not here right now?"

I stopped petting her hair, confused about how this had suddenly started being about Artie. "I always think you're amazing," I said, lowering my voice as the hall got quiet and the last people started to go to class. "You're the one who never wants to be around me, just because you don't like my boyfriend."

Santana just started crying harder. I knew from experience that she didn't cry often, but when she did, it was hard to get her to stop. "I just thought that we were best friends and that I was the most important person in your life and now you have Artie and I don't want to share!" she said. "I don't like being a third wheel!"

"Santana, that doesn't even make sense," I said gently. "You wouldn't be a third wheel. You don't even have to hang out with him if you don't want to. But you never seem like you want to be with me, when it's just the two of us."

"Because!" Santana said in frustration. "It's not the same!"

"So what do you want me to do, break up with Artie?" I asked, getting a little angry. "I can't do that. I think I might be in love with him."

"You don't love him, you love _me_!" she said. Her crying was truly becoming hysterical now, and it was making me nervous.

"Can't I love both of you?" I asked, reaching for her to try and pull her into my arms. She pushed me away. "Santana, what's going on with you? Please tell me why you're crying like this, I'm worried." I felt tears welling up in my own eyes, just watching her. "I know there's something else that's bothering you. It's not just what happened in Glee Club," I said quietly.

"You can't love us both," Santana said, shaking her head. "I won't settle for that."

_I did, _I wanted to say. _I've been settling for half your attention all my life. It's your turn now_. But I didn't say it. Santana's chest was heaving up and down and I was seriously worried that if she started to cry any harder, she would have a heart attack or something. "Well, I do love both of you," I said quietly.

Santana wiped at her eyes with the back of her arm, but it did nothing to stop her tears. "I have to go," she said tearfully.

"Santana, you're not going to class like this," I said. She stood up. "Santana," I protested.

"I'm not going to class, I'm just...I'm leaving!"

I stood up, too. "Where are you going to go?" I asked.

"I don't know, somewhere," I said. She started to walk down the hall and I tried to follow her. "I want to be alone!" she shouted at me. I retreated slowly, startled by the sudden anger in her voice.

"Okay, sure," I said quietly. "Go be alone."

After Santana left, I couldn't bring myself to go to class, so I wandered around the hallways a little bit until I heard the bell ring. It was time for lunch after that, and even though I wasn't hungry, I went to the cafeteria anyway, hoping that Santana would be there. She wasn't. I got in line to get some food and then sat down at Artie's usual table, next to Tina. "Where are the boys?" I asked.

"They had a math test, they're probably still in class," Tina replied.

"Oh. Alright." I began to pick at my food.

"How was Santana?" Tina asked. I looked up, surprised that she had asked.

"She was...sad," I said. "Pretty sad. I don't think I could help her much. She didn't really want me to."

Tina shook her head. "That girl doesn't realize how lucky she is to have you."

"I don't know, I think she does," I said. "She was just really upset." After a pause, I said, "I'm lucky too."

"Well, maybe you just need some space away from her for a little bit. Until she cools down." Tina looked at me and smiled. "Kurt's invited us all to Breadstix tomorrow to hear the Warblers sing, and after that we're gonna go to a party at Mike's house. You and Artie should totally come."

"I don't know," I said. Ever since Artie and I had started dating, I hadn't really gone to parties much. "Do you think he'd mind?"

"It'll be fun!" Tina said. "A lot of Glee people will be there. I'm sure he'll agree to it."

"Okay," I said. Then I smiled. Going to a party would be cool. I missed partying.

"Just one thing though," Tina said. "Don't invite Santana. I know it's hard, but she needs to branch out and find some other friends, anyway. Clearly, we're not enough for her." Tina scowled.

"I thought I was enough for her," I said quietly.

"Oh, Britt," Tina said, reaching across the table for my hands. "I didn't mean it like that. Of course Santana _likes_ you. Loves you, even. But she doesn't respect you or your friends, and that's why I think you need a night away from her."

I sighed. It made sense, even though I didn't want to admit it. "Okay," I said. "I'll be at the party, no Santana."

"Perfect," Tina said.

The next day was Valentine's Day, and we all went to Breadstix in the evening. The Warblers were really good and it was nice to see Kurt again. I felt bad that Santana was sitting alone, and I tried to wave her over to sit with me and Artie. She walked over to our table and my heart soared hopefully, but then she said, "Hey Crip. Is that your grandma's old sweater? She has terrible taste." Then she went and sat by herself at a small table.

"I'm sorry," I told Artie. "She's having a bad Valentine's Day."

Artie shrugged. "Whateva, I'm not. I got my hot girlfriend with me." He smiled and took hold of my hands, giving them a little kiss. I giggled and leaned into him, feeling Santana's eyes on me the whole time.

When the singing was over, we all got ready to go to Mike's house for his party. I felt a little guilty that we weren't inviting Santana, but then I saw her going off to talk to Sam, with her flirty smirk on. My fists clenched without me even realizing it. "Hurry up," I muttered to Artie. "I need to get out of here, I hate this place."

Artie laughed nervously. "Uh, okay," he said. "No worries, we're leaving now."

Mike's friends from football and the Braniacs were already at his house, getting the party started without him. The music was loud and I could feel the vibrations from the bass as we walked inside. "Come on!" Tina said, grabbing my hand. "Let's get something to drink!"

I let Tina drag me along, surprised at how confident she was. When I thought about seeing her at a few parties in ninth and tenth grade, she was always standing in the corner and looked a little shy. But now she was dating Mike, who was hot and popular, so she probably got invited to parties all the time. It was one thing I missed about hanging out with Santana—we always got invited to do fun things, even if people didn't like us, because they were scared of her wrath. Tina took us to the drinks table and I looked around, reaching for a beer. She slapped my hand away. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"Valentine's Day shots!" Tina cried, lifting a bottle of tequila. I laughed.

"Are you sure?"

Tina nodded vigorously. "Yes!" she said. "Come on, we have boyfriends, we're at a party, we need to celebrate!"

Tina and I did shots until I started to feel dizzy. Artie wheeled his way over to me after a while. "Hey baby," I said, stumbling and landing on his lap. I leaned in and kissed him. "Take me to the dance floor."

"Anything you want, babe," Artie said, wheeling us through the crowd of people to the center of the dance floor. I pulled myself off his lap and started dancing in front of him, while he rocked his wheelchair from side to side and cheered me on. I leaned down and took his hands.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight," I said. "I know parties aren't really your thing."

"That's okay, I'm having fun," Artie said.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Of course!" Artie replied. He smiled widely but I wasn't quite sure if he was actually excited or not. Even though I tried not to, I thought about Santana again. She never feigned excitement or anything. When she didn't like something, she always made sure I knew it. It made my life simpler, not having to worry if she was having fun.

"Hey, I have an idea," I said, turning away from Artie with a smirk. I danced low so that my butt was brushing across the tops of his legs. There were a few hollers as some people turned to watch me, and I lifted my arms above my head and rolled my hips seductively. It felt good to be dancing. Since we'd quit the Cheerios, I had worried I wouldn't get the chance.

I felt Artie's hands come up to push me away slightly and I turned around. He smiled. "Let's not do that here," he said. "It's weird, there's too many people watching."

"Okay," I said, feeling slightly disappointed. It sort of bugged me how Artie never wanted to do sexy things. I was just starting to think of Santana again when I was interrupted by someone calling my name.

"Brittany!" I turned to see Tina hurrying towards me, her eyes wide. She bumped into a guy who was grinding with his girlfriend. "Whoops! Sorry." She giggled and looked at me. "Come on, I need you!"

"Uh, alright," I said, following her as she turned around and headed for the edge of the room. "I think she had a little too much to drink," I said to Artie. He looked at me curiously and began to follow close behind.

Tina led us into the kitchen, where Mike and some of his friends were lounging against the counter and talking. "Alright, Mike," she said. "We're ready."

"Ready?" I asked. "For what?" Tina looked at me. Then she flung her arms around my neck and pulled my face down to hers for a kiss.

It took me a moment to figure out what was going on. I thought about Artie sitting right there and I should have pulled away, but there was alcohol in me and anyway I never pulled away from a kiss. It seemed rude. So I put my hands on her hips and kissed her back. She was really sloppy and was kind of giggling the whole time. It wasn't that unusual, though. I had made out with drunk Cheerios before, and they usually acted the same way.

When we broke apart, Tina hiccuped and looked up at Mike. Several of his friends whistled as Mike looked at her with bleary eyes. "I love you," he said. "That was so hot."

"Mmm, I love you, too," Tina replied, and suddenly she pounced on Mike just like she had pounced on me. They started kissing really passionately, and I started to feel a little weird just watching them.

I turned towards Artie. "Was that okay?" I asked. "I didn't know she was gonna do that. And besides, she's a girl, so it's not really cheating, right?"

"Hell no, that was awesome," Artie said. "Come on, we should leave these two alone. I wanna go dance with my sexy girlfriend."

I frowned at him. "You have another girlfriend?"

Artie laughed. "No, silly, I meant you. Come on."

"Oh." I giggled and grabbed the back of his chair. "Alright, let's go get our party on." I started to lead him towards the doorway, but when I looked up, I froze. Santana was standing there in the doorway with Sam by her side, her car keys dangling from her fingers and a look of shock on her face. "Oh...hey Santana," I said awkwardly. "I didn't know you were coming."

"Obviously not," she said coldly.

I looked down at Artie, who was looking at me in concern. "Um...how much did you see just now?"

"Enough," Santana replied. She looked at Artie. "I didn't realize the two of you were in an _open_ relationship," she spat.

"We're not," Artie began.

"Whatever," Santana said. She looked over at Sam. "Let's go." He turned and followed her out of the doorway, a confused expression on his face. "I can tell when I'm not wanted!" Santana called over her shoulder.

Artie looked up at me. "What was that all about?" he asked.

I shrugged, the happy feeling I'd had from the alcohol leaving the room right behind Santana. "I honestly have no idea."


	13. Sam

**A/N: I think the episode I refer to technically aired in February, but so did the last one, and I wanted there to be a different heading so you would know some time had gone by. Creative license I guess :/ And you guys...we're almost to the end of this story... :(**

__**I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! ;)**

* * *

><p><em>March 2011<em>

The next couple of weeks were like torture for me. Santana started dating Sam Evans out of nowhere, and I didn't know what to think. I kept thinking about the way she'd acted when she saw me kissing Tina at the party. Was she jealous? Then why did she keep avoiding me? Did she _like _me? The confusion stressed me out so much that I could barely eat, and my parents were starting to get worried. That's why they practically forced me to go to Rachel Berry's weird house party, even though I really didn't want to. "You need to get out of the house, honey," my mom said. "You are the opposite of grounded right now."

So Artie and I went with Tina and Mike to Rachel's party. At first, it was super boring. Rachel was giving out drink tickets and she wouldn't even let me sit on her washing machine. That part made some sense, though, because sometimes sitting on the washing machine could be pretty good for sexy alone times. And she probably didn't want me doing that at her house.

After about ten awkward minutes, Mike made his way over to us. "You guys, this blows," he said. "We should leave."

"Aw, come on, I don't wanna be mean," Artie said. He looked up at me. I just shrugged. Truthfully, I didn't really want to be at the party anymore. Santana and Sam were making out on the couch and I was trying not to look at them, but it was hard.

"We'll let her down easy," Tina said. "It'll be okay."

"Alright," Artie said. "Fine." We followed him over to where Rachel was awkwardly greeting people. "Great party, Rachel," he said. "But we gotta run."

"Yeah, dinner reservations." Tina shrugged apologetically.

"But—but we haven't even played celebrity yet!" Rachel said. Artie looked up at me. Yeah, it was definitely time to leave. We walked back over towards the washing machine so that I could grab my coat and purse. Behind me, I heard Finn and Puck arguing with Rachel.

"You ready?" Artie asked. I picked up my stuff and nodded. "Alright, let's go." We started to follow Tina and Mike to the stairs when Rachel suddenly cried out, "Let's party!" I turned around.

"She's gonna let us get the good stuff," Puck said excitedly, pushing past me. Finn followed him and I looked over at my friends.

"The good stuff. Should we stay?" Mike asked.

Artie shrugged. "I guess so." He looked up at me. "You okay with that?"

I glanced over once more at Santana and Sam. "I guess so," I said. "If I can get drunk."

Artie smiled. "You better. We're all gonna be getting drunk tonight." He wheeled his way over to Rachel. "Girl, where are your speakers at? We need to get some tunes up in here."

The party actually got kind of fun once I started drinking and dancing around. Sam and Santana were still making out but I barely noticed him. Tina and Mercedes kept telling me the funniest jokes. I didn't even really get it, but it was hilarious to watch them falling over because they were laughing so hard. I was busy watching Quinn as she tied her neck scarf around her head like a bandana, when Santana suddenly came up behind me. "Body shots!" she cried, wrapping her arms around my waist. "Let's go!"

"Okay!" I replied. I stumbled over to the coffee table and pulled my shirt over my head. Artie, Sam, and Rachel gathered around me to watch.

"Looking fine, baby!" Artie said as I lay down on the table, wearing nothing but shorts and my pink polka-dotted bra. "Who's first?"

"Me," Santana said, shoving everyone else out of the way. She sprinkled salt on my stomach and I tried to remain still, even though it was hard to stop laughing. I was still thinking Mercedes's joke. "Ready baby?" Santana asked, holding a shot in one hand and a lime in the other.

"Yeah!" I said. "Let's do this!"

"Open up," she said. I opened my mouth and she put the edge of the lime into it. Then she leaned down and ran her tongue across my stomach.

I practically stopped breathing. It had been way too long since we had been together and I suddenly remembered how badly I wanted her. It wasn't just about loving her—which I _did_, but I loved Artie too—it was about that crazy, out of control feeling I would get when I was around her. It was about how my body would heat up whenever she got close to me, how when we had sex I felt like my world was exploding into lots of shapes and colors. I had never felt any of that with Artie, not even close. Santana removed her tongue from my abs and leaned down to take the lime from my mouth with her own. The edge of her lip grazed mine as she wrapped her teeth around the sour fruit. I moaned.

Then, suddenly, she was sitting upright, tossing back a shot as everyone cheered. My chest was heaving. I pulled myself up shakily and suddenly found that Artie was beside me, pulling me into his lap. "San," I started to say, but she was already on her feet, stumbling off towards the couch with Sam. I turned back to Artie and let him pull me into a passionate kiss. "Mmm," I moaned, feeling my body start to heat up all over again. But Santana was still on my mind and it didn't feel quite right.

"Hey you know what would be hot?" Artie said quietly when we broke apart. "If you took off your clothes for me."

"Huh?" I asked, confused. Artie didn't usually act like this. But he was obviously very drunk, and he was looking at me with his eyes glazed over.

"Come on," he said. "Do a striptease, baby. You already have your shirt off."

I looked down. Sure enough, my shirt was not on me anymore. Which was strange, because I barely remembered taking it off. "Whoops," I giggled. "My bad." I looked at Artie and then began to loosen the tie around his neck. "I guess I have to borrow this."

"That's not gonna cover you up, sweetie," he said with a wink.

"It'll work," I replied, sliding it over my neck. Then I crossed the room and climbed onto the table. "You ready?" I asked.

"Hell yeah!" Artie said.

I did my striptease for Artie until Rachel came over and practically dragged me off the table. At first, I thought she was mad that I was on her furniture again, but it turned out that she was just extremely drunk. "We're playing Spin-the-Bottle!" she yelled in my ear. "Come on!"

We all gathered in a circle. Santana didn't join us, though; she went over to the drinks table to grab another cup, and it looked kinda like she'd been crying. I wanted to get up and ask her what was wrong, but the room was spinning and I wasn't sure my legs were working. So instead, I spun the bottle and giggled as it handed on Sam.

"Oh shit!" Puck said to Sam. "Three for three Cheerios, you're in the big leagues now! Population: Puckerman."

"Oh, shut up Puck," Quinn said as Lauren hit him on the head. "Just kiss, guys." I looked over at Sam, who was grinning at me. His hair was all messy and cute, and I smiled as I leaned in. Behind me, I could hear Artie cheering. As my lips touched Sam's, he reached up and cupped my cheek gently. My spine started tingling as he slipped his tongue in my mouth. This guy was _good_.

I forgot about everyone else around me until I felt a hand on my head. "Hey—hey honeys! This is not-" Someone pulled Sam off of me and I met his eyes, grinning. "This is not a big red commercial!" the voice continued, and I looked up to see Santana staring at us angrily. "No me gusta!"

I fell back onto Artie's legs, watching as Rachel spun Blaine, with one eye on Santana the whole time. She was in the corner, still glaring at me. Suddenly, I felt irrationally angry. I knew part of it was because of the alcohol, but I just really wanted to walk over to Santana and slap her as hard as I could. I made it through Blaine and Rachel's kiss, but when they got up to sing and Santana went to make out with Sam again, I couldn't control myself any longer. The second the song was over, I left Artie's lap and marched over to them. I grabbed a handful of Santana's hair. "Hey!" I shouted, pulling her away from Sam. "Sorry for making out with your _boyfriend_!" I wasn't really apologizing. I was furious.

Santana climbed off the couch and looked at me with narrowed eyes. "What the fuck do you want, Brittany?"

"I want you to stop being such a...such a butthead! Do you think you can handle that for, like, one night? Because we're all kinda trying to have fun here."

Santana took a step towards me and I stepped back, worried she was about to hit me. "What is your problem?" she demanded. "I don't even know who you _are_ anymore!"

"Well, I know who _you _are!" I replied. "You're a huge fucking bitch!"

Behind Santana, Sam was gaping at me, and I could feel Finn and Kurt staring me down from the corner. I knew they were startled by the way I was talking. But I didn't care. I was so mad at Santana and I wanted her to know it. "Why don't we settle this in private?" Santana asked in a dangerously low voice.

I nodded and turned around, storming over to the stairs. I wasn't quite sure where I was taking us, I just knew I needed to get out of that room. Behind us, I heard Rachel saying something about not leaving the room, but then Santana yelled something in Spanish and Rachel backed away. I took the stairs three at a time, not even checking to make sure that Santana was following me. When I got out of the basement, I went up another staircase and wandered down the hall until I found a bedroom. I threw the door open and went inside.

"Ew. This is Berry's room?" I turned around to see that Santana had, in fact, kept up with me. She closed the door behind her and looked around. "This is decorated horribly. I feel like I want to vomit."

"Don't change the subject," I demanded. Santana looked at me. She seemed less angry now that we weren't downstairs anymore.

"Alright," she said, sitting down on the bed. "Why don't you tell me what the hell is going on?"

I struggled to organize my thoughts, to remember everything I wanted to say to her. It was hard, because my head was still spinning. I pressed my palms to my eyes and thought for a moment, until Santana clicked her tongue impatiently. "What's going on with you and Sam?" I blurted out.

"He's my boyfriend," she said simply. I took my hands from my eyes and looked at her unsmiling face.

"Is he really?" I asked.

"Is it really that hard to believe that someone might want to date me? You're not the only hot girl in the whole school, you know!"

"Alright, alright," I said, holding up my hands to stop her. "Just calm down. I didn't know you were interested in him. You said he was a dork."

"Well, I changed my mind," Santana said coldly. "Just like you changed your mind about Artie, care to explain _that_?"

"I have explained that!" I said. "I like him. He's nice. End of story."

"Okay, so he's _nice_," Santana said. "But is he boyfriend material?" She reached towards me and grabbed my hands, and before I knew it, she was pulling me towards the bed. "Does he make you feel things?"

"What kind of things are you talking about?" I asked in annoyance.

Santana spread her legs and pulled me in between them so that her face was level with my boobs. It was a little awkward, because I was still only wearing my bra. She reached around me and began to rub her hands along the backs of my thighs. "You know..." she said. "Sexy things."

I shivered at her touch. "Santana..." I began. "What are you doing?"

"I know what this is really about," Santana said. "I know that you've wanted me for a long time. I knew it since we kissed at cheer camp. You _like _me, Brittany. You've got a huge fucking crush on me."

The blood drained from my face and I struggled to remain standing. "I-I...I don't," I began weakly.

Santana's hands trailed upward and grabbed my ass. "Don't lie," she hissed.

"I think you like me, too," I said, my voice shaking. "I think you always have, even more than I like you. I think that..." I took a deep breath. "I think you love me."

In seconds, Santana had stood up and shoved me onto the bed. She straddled my legs and pinned me down. "I don't!" she said. "I don't love you at all!"

"You do!" I replied, struggling to get up. "You do and you won't admit it, and I think you're a stupid coward for not admitting it!"

Santana's lip began to tremble. "Don't," she said. "You don't think that."

"I do," I protested, but my voice faltered and I didn't sound very convincing.

Santana shook her head back and forth, tears forming in her eyes. "No, no, don't say that," she said. I sighed heavily as she loosened her grip on me and reached up to wipe her eyes.

"Santana, why do you always cry when you're drunk?" I asked. She shook her head and began to cry harder. "Come here," I said, pulling her down onto me. She buried her face in my shoulder and cried. I stroked her hair absentmindedly until I felt her fingers start to caress my bare stomach. "What are you doing?" I gasped.

She sat up suddely, pinning me down as she reached around my back and unclasped my bra in one motion. She threw it onto the floor and looked at me piercingly. Her eyes were still watery but her expression had turned devilish. "I think you and I just need to get this out of our systems," she said. "We both want this. Let's just do it."

My eyes widened. "Santana, don't," I said. "Not now, we need to figure this out..." I struggled to remember all of the things I wanted to talk to her about, but then her hands were on my breasts and I lost all train of thought. "San-Santana, please," I said halfheartedly.

"I just want you to see what you're missing," Santana said. "I want you to remember what it feels like to touch me. To feel me touching you."

"I do remember," I said. "But Artie..."

"It's not cheating if it's with me," Santana said. "I'm a girl, it's different. He said so himself at Other Asian's party."

"I don't know..." I began. Santana leaned down and wrapped her lips around one of my nipples. I gasped and arched upward as she pulled back.

"Look at you," Santana said, watching me as I breathed heavily. "It's been so long since someone has shown you a real good time. You deserve so much better." She reached down and started to unbutton my pants. Then she leaned down and put her mouth next to my ear. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard right now."

I was totally wet now, with no blood getting to my brain, and only one coherent thought was going to through my mind as Santana started to pull my shorts down my legs. "Say it," I said breathlessly. "Please."

"Say what?" Santana asked, leaning forward and nipping at the skin on my stomach. "What do you want me to say?"

"Say—how you feel," I gasped, squirming underneath her touch. She almost had me. One more minute and I was going to give in, with or without a confession. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she just how little resolve I had left.

"I...maybe have a little crush on you," she said, and her cheeks turned pink as she spoke. She sat up and looked down into my eyes. "Like, a real crush. I guess."

My heart was beating a million times per minute. I stared up at her. "And...?"

"And screw Artie. I'm going to have sex with you. Tonight and always."

I groaned. "San-" I began, but she leaned forward and crashed her lips to mine. I tangled my hands in her hair and kissed her, kissed her like I'd been longing to for the last five months. _It's not enough_, my brain screamed, _tell her it's not enough_! But I couldn't stop kissing her for anything. She owned me. She always had.

"It's, like, sinful for us to stop doing this," Santana said as she crept southward, trailing her lips across my skin. "We're too good. Too perfect together."

"I want you," I choked out. "I want to be with you."

"Shh," Santana whispered, her face level with my hips now. "Don't ruin the moment right now. We need to make up for all that lost tiime."

She started to pull down my shorts and I knew I was done for. This was happening, whether I wanted it or not. And oh God, did I want it. "J-just promise me you won't leave me," I said. "That we won't fight again."

Santana ripped off my underwear and wrapped her arms around my thighs. "I promise," she said.

As she bent her head down, all I could think was, _Good enough for now_.


	14. Epilogue

__**A/N: So. I have both run out of characters for Britt to kiss and have reached a natural ending for this story, which means that this is the last chapter :( You all know what happened after Blame It On the Alcohol (I'm assuming, unless you don't watch Glee...and if you don't, why are you here?). It was lots of fun for me to fill in the gaps in canon, but you all got to see Brittana's angst on screen at the end of season 2 so. Here is the epilogue, which addresses one more little thing that I think should have been in the show. And then I'm off. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this story :)**

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><p><em>June 2011<em>

"I can't believe how quickly that year went," Santana said, flopping down onto my mattress. "It feels like just two seconds ago that Quinn and I were fighting over who would be the new Cheerio captain."

"Yeah, I know," I said. I sat down near the head of the bed and pulled my knees up to my chest. I looked over at Santana. Her cheeks were pink from walking home from school in the hot sun and her hair was all over the pillows. I picked up a few strands and twirled them around my fingers. Santana had such pretty hair.

"So much happened, though," she said. "This year, I mean."

I nodded. "Yeah I know. We quit the Cheerios and went to New York and Rachel and Finn dated and broke up and then dated again and Kurt found a boyfriend and left school and then came back..."

"And us," Santana said. She propped her head up on her hand and looked at me. I looked back.

"Yeah," I said. "Us."

Santana reached forward with her other hand and began to play with my fingers. "What is _us_ right now, anyway?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you broke up with Artie. And we, you know, love each other." She blushed and looked away. "I just thought that maybe..."

"Maybe what?" I could tell that she wanted me to finish her sentence for her, but I didn't want to. I had to hear her say it.

"We could give this a try," she said.

"What do you mean by this?"

Santana looked up at me. She smiled. "Come on, Britt. You know what I mean."

"I don't," I said, trying to keep a smile off my face. "I really don't understand." I pouted. "Please, Sannie, you know I'm not good at understanding things."

"Ugh!" Santana said, burying her face in my pillow. "You're so cute," she mumbled.

"I'm so what?" I asked, unable to resist. Santana lifted her head, her hair falling into her eyes.

"Cute!" she said before hiding in the pillows again. I giggled and began to smooth out the hair on the back of her head.

"You're kind of cute too, I guess," I said. "_Kind _of. But you're gonna have to come out of those pillows, I can't be sure until I see your face."

"Fine." Santana rolled over so that she was looking at me. "Since you're being _so _stubborn, I'll spell it out for you." She took a deep breath. "I think we should be together."

I bit my lip to keep from smiling. I wasn't done with her yet. "What does that mean, exactly?" I asked.

"It means that we're exclusive. Only us from now on. No more sex with other people, no more kissing, no more flirting. We can only do all of that with each other." She looked at me. "I mean...if that's okay with you."

"That's definitely okay," I said, finally letting myself grin. "That's more than okay."

"Are you sure you can handle being a one-woman kind of girl?" Santana asked, reaching up to punch me playfully. "After all, you _have _kissed almost everyone in the whole glee club."

"Almost everyone? No way."

"Oh come on, don't lie, I know you've kissed a bunch of them. Quinn, Finn, Puck...Kurt..."

"Santana, I haven't kissed _almost _everyone," I said, feeling a little smug. "I've kissed everyone!"

Santana's eyes widened. "Oh my God. Are you serious?"

"Totally serious," I said.

"Britt!" Santana grabbed my stuff bear and threw it at my face. "I can't believe you!" She shook her head. "Was I the best, at least?"

"Duh," I said. Then I got serious. "I tried to tell you that, you know."

"Did you?" Santana asked softly.

I nodded. "I wanted to tell you how I felt for so long, I just...I didn't know what to do. I didn't think you liked me like that."

"Britt, I'm so sorry," Santana said, and she genuinely looked it. I was worried she might cry. "I was so unfair to you, I feel horrible. The last few months I sort of got how it felt and it...it almost killed me. Really."

"I wouldn't want you to die," I said.

"I was just really scared that, even after you broke up with Artie, you still wouldn't want me," she said. "I wasn't brave enough for you."

"Santana, I think you're the bravest girl I ever met," I told her.

"Brittany," Santana said, looking at me apologetically. "You are. I'm not. I'm trying really hard but...I mean, I still can't tell anyone about this. About us. Not yet."

I nodded. "I understand. But I know that, when you're ready, you'll do it and you'll be brave about it. I can already tell." I shrugged. "You're like a unicorn."

"Are unicorns brave?" Santana asked.

"Of course unicorns are brave, silly," I said. "How would they get all the way up to Candy Mountain if they weren't?"

Santana smiled. "You're right. I wasn't thinking. Of course they are."

"You're definitely like a unicorn," I said. "You just don't know it yet."

Santana pulled herself up to a sitting position and reached over, running her fingers across my cheek. "You're so beautiful," she said. "Did you know that?"

"I mean, I did, but you can tell me whenever you want," I replied.

Santana chuckled. "When we were in the choir room during prom, after I lost Prom Queen...do you remember that?"

I nodded. "Of course."

"I thought you were going to kiss me. I think that's the most I've ever wanted to kiss you in my entire life."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Should I have done it?"

Santana shook her head. "No," she said. "It wasn't fair. I was still being a total bitch and pretending to be with Karofsky. It would have been a bad time."

"Speaking of Karofsky," I began.

"It's over," Santana said quickly. "I mean, it never even started. He was gay."

"For real?" I asked, my eyes wide. "But I thought he was mean to Kurt!"

"He was," Santana said. "That was why."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Probably not to you," Santana said. "Since you're a sweetheart. To me, I guess it kind of made sense."

"So he was gay," I repeated. "Hm, that's a twist."

"Yeah," Santana replied.

"And so are you," I said. I meant it to be a question, but it didn't really sound like one. Santana looked away.

"Britt..." she began.

"I know that I like boys too. So I guess I'm bi. But if you're gay, I really don't care. I mean, I love you and no one else, so I guess I'm like...Santana-sexual." I shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

"I love you, too," Santana said. She laughed. "I guess I'm Britt-sexual."

"That works for me." I leaned forward a little bit, inviting her to kiss me. We hadn't done it since right before I made her talk to Miss Holliday with me, which was almost three months ago. And I _really_ wanted to make up for all that lost time. But Santana just leaned in so that her forehead was resting against mine, and she took both of my hands in her own.

"In all seriousness, though, I think I am," she said quietly. Her eyes were right near mine and they looked a little teary.

"What?"

"Gay."

"I always wanted you to be," I said. She laughed and a few tears slid down her cheeks. I let go of her hand for a minute so that I could wipe them away.

"I know you did," she said. "I just don't know if other people will feel the same way." She sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter. I really only care about you."

"Of course it matters," I said. "But I really don't think you have anything to worry about. Even if you can't come out next year, we're going to leave Lima together, aren't we?"

Santana smiled a huge smile. "Of course," she said. "Definitely. We're getting out of here together."

"Good," I said. "Everything will be okay, you'll see."

Santana nodded and raised her head so that her lips were level with mine. "I love you so much," she said.

"I love you too," I whispered. Then I closed the distance and our lips pressed together. As I felt her hands wrap around my neck, I realized that I had finally gotten a perfect record. And it didn't even matter.

Because I never wanted to kiss anyone but Santana ever again.


End file.
